


When we come to it

by AsleepinAvonlea



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: 2008, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Jealousy, Literati, Mutual Pining, Not Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life Compliant, Post-Season/Series 07, Post-Series, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsleepinAvonlea/pseuds/AsleepinAvonlea
Summary: Slow burn, post-original series, not AYITL compliant/fix-it. The current story spans from 2007-2025 and will have a lot of near-misses, but it complies with the idea that every generation builds on the mistakes of the ones that came before them.Any shipper deserves to know that this video exists:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4eycMfGyIQ





	1. Prologue: After 3.21

For this "chapter" I'll be explaining the general headcanon I have as to where Jess is between 3.21 "Here Comes the Son" and 6.18 "The Real Paul Anka". It's possible that I'll write a prologue, but this is just so that everyone knows where Jess is at immediately after 7.22 "Bon Voyage".

* * *

 

 

 **Post 3.21** :

Jess lives with Jimmy and Sasha now. He sleeps on this couch:

and keeps to himself. He only has what is in his bag, so he doesn't take up much room and he doesn't have enough clothing to make the mess that he made at Luke's in season 2. 

I imagine he wouldn't want to stick around the house that much, having had to convince Jimmy into letting him stay. He doesn't feel incredibly welcome, really. So, instead he spends his day walking around the area and discovering the places that he would rather spend his free time.

These places include:

1\. A remote corner of a beach, one that is more rocky and less hospitable to families on vacation or sunbathers that like to gawk.

2\. The boardwalk shops where he can find weird little books and albums to buy along with other odds and ends. 

3\. A local library, one that has a great collection of classics as well as local books that is part of a larger network of libraries that make it easy to get whatever book you'd like to read... in 3-5 business days.

He also, I would imagine, get a job at a WalMart with the recommendation from his old WalMart positions. 

So, there we have it. He wakes up early, gets himself some food, reads until he has to work, works, eats, chooses one of his 3 places, and then comes home once he's sure that everyone else will be asleep, finally able to make his way through the sea of dogs without making them howl. Doesn't make friends, but meets some interesting people.

I imagine that he's a lot like Matilda at this point, reading everything he can get his hands on. 

Eventually Sasha, Jimmy's partner, would take notice of the fact that he doesn't interact much with people. Let's say that it's about a month into Jess's not-seen-and-not-heard routine and Sasha finally confronts Jimmy about maybe being Jess's friend. Sure, he shouldn't try and insert himself as Jess's dad, but he should do something!

Cue Sasha trapping Jess into the first family dinner complete with her daughter talking about what she's doing at summer camp and feeding the cats bits of ham underneath the table. There is a totally not rehearsed moment where Sasha cues Jimmy to talk about the few things that he needs done around the food stand. Like, for instance, the fact that the whole shack needs to be repainted. It'd take too long to do on his own and he can't spare the workers to do it because the summer is just so busy and... oh, Jess! You could do it, couldn't you?

Jess borrows some of Jimmy's clothes to paint, making him look the least New York that he has ever looked in his entire life. He gets a tan too, standing on the beach all day long. Jimmy starts getting Jess to do more stuff to help, like fixing drawers and doors and shelves and such. They start to bond. In the meantime, Sasha also gets him to help her around the house so that he can get even more experience being a handyman. She convinces him to take some payment.

Along the way, Jess meets a small group of people that is headed by a girl, all of which skateboard and surf in their free time. None of them are huge scholars, all sort of slacker-types. He has a tentative friendship with them, though they never make plans. 

The one girl, the leader, starts hanging around the library more often. They speak to each other and though they make no plans, they know that they will find each other at the library. 

One day, he ends up helping her correct her paper. He beefs it up to get her an A- instead of a C+, like she would have gotten on her own. To repay him, she buys him a CD. He doesn't like the songs much, but he keeps it anyway.

He only acknowledges this agreement to meet every other day at 3 once, when he says that he'll be gone a few days. He has to go get his car.

In Connecticut.

 

**Post 4.12 & 13:**

 

 Jess quits his job at Walmart and gets a job at the library, his only coworkers being above the age of 60. He has a lot of free time at this new job, allowing him to hang out with his friend, let's call her Ivy. (Yes, this is the Ivy from Windward Circle)

Ivy does her homework there and everyone she hangs out with does too. People start using Jess as a resource, something that he is convinced to charge for as these Californians don't have his taste in music. After word gets out, he makes a few hundred dollars a week from all of the college students in the area, doing the paper correcting only during work at the library when nothing else needs to be done. No one minds as he is pretty efficient anyway. 

We also get a good Jess birthday right around now. He has a little party with Sasha, Jimmy, his younger step-sister (Lily), and Ivy. Sasha invited Ivy against Jimmy's guidance. It goes well and they eat cake. Jess doesn't particularly like strawberry cake, but he eats it because Sasha and Lily made it for him. 

He got an iPod for his birthday. 

That night, he walks Ivy home. They almost kiss.

He can't.

She asks him, "is it that girl? The one that you went back for?"

It is.

And he announces his move to NYC the very next day. 

He's back in New York by the end of the week, and another week later he is staying in the apartment that Luke found him in: 

 

 

**Post 4.20 and 21:**

Jess, now completely heartbroken over the rejected proposal to run away, packs up his car and leaves NYC. He decides to travel, to get his bearings on his own and experience America the way that only an angsty boy like him can.

He lives off his savings from working at WalMart, Luke's, Jimmy's shack, Sasha's small payments, the library, and his paper correcting business. Though he doesn't live in California, he does talk to Ivy through email every once in a while. She asks if he would be okay to give out his email as people still ask for him in the library. He corrects papers over email and makes money that way. 

After about 5 months, he settles in an East-ish college town, let's say Kent, Ohio (as that is one of the only states that requires no classes before taking the GED test). He gets his GED in 2005 at the age of 21. He extends his editing abilities to the Kent State students. The end of the school year comes around and he continues to travel the country.

He finishes his first draft of his book around now. 

Traveling, traveling, traveling. He sticks to the East coast now, from Florida to Maine. Once he finally finishes his book, he happens to be in Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to be exact. 

While in town, he submits his paper to a Philly editor, signing a month-by-month lease in the meantime.

He receives the edits and settles into a small cafe to read them. They are... not fantastic, to say the least. The only person to notice his quiet irritation is the young barista who has a crush on him and is glad whenever he comes in.

Maybe an hour into marking up his editor's edits, Jess mutters something like “idiot”. This happens at the same time that one of the Truncheon books founders makes a simple mistake. Were you talking to me? No, I was talking to this editor. Blah, blah, blah, Jess submits to an editor that the Truncheon guy suggests (an in-house editor).

Jess works as part-time handyman to get a discount on his editing with the Truncheon people and builds a relationship with the guys. He’s hired as an actual employee once there’s an opening and they eventually publish his book.

Jess gets copies and he sends a few to his family in California. He then travels up the east coast (Penn, NY, RI, Conn) until he lands in Stars Hollow, “begging people to stock his books” along the way.

 

**Post 6.08:**

Jess is sad again, but he buries himself in his work. 

Rory is put out of his mind for now.

 

**Post 6.18:**

He decides that he can't hold his breath for Rory anymore. 

 


	2. Chapter one: 2007 (the end of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we left off:  
> Jess and Rory aren't speaking.  
> Rory is working as a reporter on the Obama 2008 campaign.  
> She's also single, as Logan left for California.  
> Luke and Lorelai are tentatively together.  
> ... April exists. (why)

 

                                                                                                                 

 

 

  _'Wish someone would tell me, tell me what to do. Don't tell me I've had good times with him, 'cause I know they're true. Don't tell me I still love him 'cause I know that too-"_

"Ahh... shit," Rory mumbled, tapping Gertie a few times to encourage the little machine to move past whatever problem was causing the stop. The walkman was about 7 years old, so not much can truly be expected from her, especially seeing as she'd done so well up until this point. Maybe she died. Pulling out her earbuds and carefully wrapping them up, Rory finally focused in on what everyone else on the bus was up to. Mostly sleeping, seeing as they'd all been up so late the night before, but there were still the last few stragglers working on assignments that they hadn't yet finished.

For once, Rory was ahead of schedule. Yes, she still had mountains of papers to attend to, but that could all wait until the bus got her to her hotel room in Santa Cruz. She figured that she would have enough time to find a mailbox and send off her letter to her mother, maybe get a bite to eat before she was thrust back into the world of work. She hadn't had a real day off, a day when she didn't have to do anything but relax, since they'd been in Arizona two weeks ago. Even then she'd spent her morning helping Anya send a  'grown up email' to their boss, requesting time off for her sister's non-descriptive surgery- which Rory still thought was a lie so that she would have time to go to the Maroon 5 concert back in Texas, but she helped just the same. 

While Rory had spent time ruminating on the pros and cons of having a roommate willing to miss incredibly important job opportunities for a band that, in all honesty, had music that sounded nearly identical to all of the other top 40 hits, the bus had rolled to a stop. Another bathroom break. 

Venturing out of the air conditioned bus and into the ungodly September heat was yet another reminder that Rory, at heart, was still an East coast girl. While she appraised the fruit being sold outside of the rest stop, she couldn't help but wonder whether she would ever enjoy living in a place like California.

Setting down roots in a place like this wouldn't be unimaginable, just not for a few years. Perhaps she hadn't been fully sure of her choice when Logan first moved away, but as time went on she was more and more certain. Married life wasn't for her. Not yet, at least.

Rory paid for a brilliantly red apple and climbed back onto the bus, waiting to start the journey yet again.

 

- 

 

"Has Lane started at work yet?" Rory asked, turning to lay on her stomach so that she could smooth out the corners of her beach towel. "I thought she was supposed to go back to Luke's today, but I haven't been able to get ahold of her."

"Oh no, she was supposed to," Lorelai responded, her voice smothered by the sandwich she was in the middle of wolfing down. "Then Kwan caught the cold- or maybe it was Steve. Still can't tell them apart and I don't think I'll ever be able to if they keep up this twins from the Shining kick they seem to be on."

"All matching outfits?" 

"Down to the shoes. For kids that can't stand up, they've got some great kicks," Lorelai remarked. "Either way, Lane took some time off 'cause everyone's laid up. Sounds like she'll be back by Friday, though-" A muffled shout interrupted her. "Monday. She'll be back Monday."

Rory laughed. "Say hi to Luke for me- wait, can I actually talk to him?"

A gasp of indignation traveled through the receiver, already bringing Rory's eyes to roll.

"I only get you for twenty minutes a day and you expect me to give up my time so that you can talk to a man?" Though she had never been an actress, Rory had to admit that her mother could really act.

"It's still your hand I'm holding when we go over the cliff, Thelma," Rory shrugged, turning onto her back again so that she could relax in the hot afternoon sun. 

"While I definitely appreciate that, Kid, he's not here."

"Not there? Who'd I hear in the background?"

"Sookie."

"Sookie?" Rory echoed, her confusion showing through her tone. "Sookie's voice sounds very masculine nowadays."

"She caught the cold," Lorelai explained.

"And the cold makes her sound like a man?" 

"I didn't think so. But, now that you mention it, she does sound a little more like James Stewart than she used to," Lorelai teased. 

"Well, if Luke isn't there, where is he?" Rory wondered.

It had to be almost nine o'clock back in Stars Hollow and she couldn't imagine that Luke was out enjoying the nightlife of Connecticut on a Wednesday night. The idea put a smile on her face. Maybe him and Kirk had gone clubbing. 

"He just went out of town for a few days," Lorelai responded, her tone oddly light. 

"Out of town? Where? New York?" Rory asked, her mother's lack of communication piquing her interest. 

"He's just out of town for a few days. Went down to Pennsylvania."

Pennsylvania? What the hell is in Pennsylvania-...

"He's visiting Jess," Rory stated, her tone as smooth as glass. Over the last few months, she'd been able to almost perfect the tone of being near-emotionless without sounding too robotic. It frequently worked when she wanted to look less excited or enthusiastic than she was to talk to someone important. It was  _almost_ perfect. If anyone was going to see through it, that would be Lorelai Victoria Gilmore. 

A pregnant pause hung in the air, one that made it clear that her mother still had questions that hadn't yet been answered. Though, through what Rory imagined was a large helping of self restraint, Lorelai moved on.

"Yeah. Apparently he moved into a nicer apartment and bought real adult-style furniture. Needed some help getting it all from one place to another and I guess none of his writer friends have trucks," Lorelai theorized, her tone carefully casual.

"So, then it sounds like he's doing good?" Rory said, taken aback by how tight her throat had suddenly become. 

"Yeah, Hon. It sounds like he's doing really well."

Rory sat up, adjusting her sunglasses while she watched a little girl and her dog chase away the seagulls by the shore line. The longer she stayed in California, the more she focused on the past. First it was just Logan, knowing that she could take a few days off and rent a car to go see him was tempting. She was still in love with him, even if was fading. But then, as the caravan of reporters traveled up the West Coast and further away from the lost Huntzberger, she was remembering the last time she lost a relationship to California.

"D'you want to talk about it?" Lorelai asked, breaking the silence between them. 

"There's nothing to talk about," Rory shrugged, ruffling her hair.

"We never really talked about what happened back in April."

"Yeah, Mom. Like I said, there's really nothing to talk about," Rory inserted, her tone firm. The discussion was over. She wasn't sure she understood her own feelings, there was no reason to share them yet. 

"...Okay. Well, if you need to talk to Luke, you have his number. Right?" 

"I've got his cell." 

"Good," Lorelai replied, hesitating to say more. She eventually decided against it. "Well, I've got to go help George Bailey back in the kitchen before she does something she and Lorelai the third are going to regret." 

"She's naming the baby Lorelai?" Rory asked, thankful for the change in subject.

"Jackson hasn't given in just yet, but I think that Sookie's softening toward the idea," Lorelai murmured conspiratorially. 

"Good luck with that," Rory laughed

"Thanks, kid. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Call Luke if you need to."

"Of course, Mom. I love you. Have a good night."

"I love you. Bye."

"Bye."

Rory dropped her cellphone into the sand, peering around to find where the girl and her dog had gone. There were birds to chase and neither of them were in sight. In fact, no one was really around except for a group of incredibly amateur surfers. Preteens, probably. She took the emptiness as her cue to leave and get her dinner before burying herself in her work for the rest of the night. While she folded up her towel and stuffed it into the beach bag she'd packed, Rory considered whether she wanted to stop by one of the food trucks or just get Chinese take out from the restaurant near the hotel. She figured that it might be nice to pretend that it was still summer while she could, knowing that within the week she would find herself on the other side of the Rockies. It was much harder to ignore September chills in the heart of Wyoming. That in mind, she figured that this was one of the last chances she had to sample local food and ordered from the nearest truck: one that sold 15 types of macaroni and cheese. 

With her food in hand, Rory found a bench near the boardwalk that overlooked the horizon. If she sat there long enough she could watch the sun set over the water, maybe indulge in some of the thoughts she tended to keep in the little box labeled 'not a good idea'. Her throat tightened and she diverted her eyes down to her food, already half gone. She was like a vacuum, she hadn't even realized that she was eating. Once she finished her food, Rory pawed through her bag to find her cellphone again to confirm that she was probably late for a date with her laptop. It was 6:47, almost 10 o'clock back on the East Coast. 

Luke was going on 40, yeah, but he wasn't some grandpa. He was probably awake, right? Probably not. But she still had to call him because of some cryptic and confusing message he'd left her a few day ago, something about a gift for her mother. She'd text him, but he refused to text seeing as he also refused to get anything but a flip phone and his thumbs were too big for the phone pad. So, Rory decided to call. 

_Ringing. Ringing. Ringi-_

"Hello?"

"Luke," Rory grinned, standing and gathering her things for the walk back to her hotel. "I'm surprised you're not asleep by now." She crossed the sidewalk and threw away her garbage, sandwiching her phone between her shoulder and her ear. 

"Oh, no- he's asleep. Went out around 7. Who's this?"

Realization dawns over Rory so quickly that it felt as if her 2$ polka dot flip flops had turned into solid bricks of concrete. To a passerby, it might look like she'd been told she was about to explode should she take another step. An embarrassing pause later, and Rory cleared her throat.

"Uh, it's Rory. Rory Gilmore."

Another pause, though this one seemed more heavily charged. Would he just hang up?

"Oh! Hey, Rory. It's Jess, I just answered the phone 'cause I figured... well, I dunno what I figured. It didn't say your name on the caller ID." 

That brought two new things to consider. Firstly, he probably wouldn't have answered Luke's phone had he known that Rory was calling. Secondly, his tone was... good. It was strained, yes. He seemed more tense than he had just saying hello, but he wasn't obviously upset with her, which he had a right to be. 

Instead of any of that, Rory just responded with a short chuckle. "Yeah, he doesn't think he needs to put the names in if he knows the numbers. Thinks it'll make him lose his memory, like the rest of us."

"Sounds like Luke," Jess replied, his tone relatively more relaxed. 

"Yeah, it does," Rory agreed, starting on her walk again. She remembered how easy it used to be to talk to Jess, how much she'd had to say to him the last time they were together. Now, with all the time in the world, she only had one thing to say and didn't have the balls to just come out and say it. "So, it sounds like you're doing good? New apartment and all. The book must be selling pretty well?"

She could just imagine him ruffling up his hair while he considered his response, chewing on the inside of her cheek while she waited. 

"Yeah, I'm doing good. The book's doing pretty good. Most of the money comes from the steady job, though. We've been expanding little by little, making more money. I'm gonna live totally alone for the first time in my life. It'll be good though, Chris always complained when I played music after nine." Jess started to say something else, but it died on his tongue before it could mean anything to Rory. "You're doing good too, then? Luke told me about the whole Obama campaign. Says you can't get home until October."

Rory couldn't help the way the corners of her lips started to creep up, barely looking for cars before she stepped into the street. 

"I'm doing good. It's hard work, but I like it."

"You always have been good at hard work, Rory." 

It was odd to think that just her name could sound intimate, but she could imagine the way it had been formed by his lips. The California heat was affecting her more than she'd thought, bringing up old feelings that she'd closed the door on months ago. That he'd most definitely closed the door on.

"The Lily Tomlin comparison has been drawn in recent times," She said, her tone unable to hide the smile on her face. 

That earned her a laugh. "Lily Tomlin, huh? I'd have gone for Jane Fonda, maybe Anne Hathaway."

"Anne Hathaway wasn't in 9 to 5," Rory corrected, waving to a friend that was exiting the hotel across the street. A small group of reporters went out to dinner every other day or so. She'd never felt the need to go with. 

"No, but she was in Devil Wears Prada. College grad with her eyes on the prize, only stopped by her moral compass. Seems more accurate to me, at least," Jess joked.

Rory's smile faltered.

"My moral compass doesn't always point North, you know," She managed, entering the cool air of the hotel lobby. 

"No, no one's does. But I don't think that I've ever seen one more accurate than yours." He was much nicer to her than she deserved.

"Y'know..." She started, glancing around while she pressed the call button for the elevator. "I just wanted to say sorry about-"

Jess interrupted her, "No. Rory, you really don't have to."

"I do," She breathed, stepping into the private haven that was the elevator and holding down the 'close door' button. "You deserve an apology. I wasn't thinking right and I definitely wasn't acting right. In fact, the only right thing was you. You don't deserve what I did."

"Rory," Jess sighed, seemingly tired all of a sudden. "Rory, you didn't do anything. I kissed you. It was a mistake, I know I shouldn't have done it."

"I wanted you to kiss me, Jess," she admitted, her heart climbing into her throat. "And I didn't stop you, I kissed you back. I should have waited until Logan and I were done."

_Well, then what, Rory?_

Her mouth went dry as the elevator doors slid open, allowing her to sweep down the hall to her room so that no one else would overhear this conversation. She wasn't sure what she could say at this point, but she knew that she had to say something. He deserved something.

"Yeah, I know," Jess murmured after a while, unable to wait any longer for a continuation of Rory's thought. "But things happen. It is what it is."

The ghostly pang of sadness that hit Rory at those familiar words was... well, not surprising. It's the reason she didn't let herself think these thoughts. 

"I wanted to talk to you. I just didn't know if you wanted to talk to me," Rory confessed, plopping down onto her bed. 

"I would. And I do. If you need to talk... well, we can still be friends, right?" Jess sounded hesitant, or maybe hopeful?

"Friends works for me, yeah. Perfect."

Not exactly  _perfect_... 


	3. Chapter two: 2008 (pt. 1)

_**January 13th. Monday.** _

Jess made sure to stomp the snow off of his boots before he stepped all the way into the cafe, thankful for the warmth that reached his cheeks almost immediately. He pulled off his knit cap and re-ruffled his hair. 

Was he the first one there? Matt and Chris weren't at their regular table... Ah, no. They'd shifted to sit next to the radiator on the other side of the room. Chris raised his hand to acknowledge Jess's presence and Jess waved back, heading to the counter to get his coffee before he sat down. He'd had to walk the twenty minutes from his apartment through the snow; if he sat down before getting his cup, he wouldn't be getting back up. 

One hand stuffed his hat into a coat pocket while the other pushed into his jeans to find his wallet. He'd just pulled out one of the most wrinkled ten-dollar-bill he'd ever come across when the man in front of him stepped to the side, leaving him to step up to the counter. 

"Hey, Jess," Chirped the barista, brushing a loose wave of strawberry blonde behind her ear. 

"Olive," he nodded, shooting her a smile. "I'll have a peppermint-

"A peppermint mocha latte. Large," Olive finished, already done writing his order on the cup. There was a smiley face on the end. "That's three fifty-two."

Jess laid the bill in her outstretched hand and leaned forward to rest on the counter. "I thought the large was five dollars," he asked, his brow wrinkled.

There was a tinge of pink of Olive's face when she leaned forward to conspiratorially whisper. "It is. Without the employee discount." She punctuated this with a wink and reached out to hand him back his change. He shoved his five-dollar-bill into the tip jar and moved to stand by the pick-up counter.

Once his gloves were safely zipped into his coat with his hat, Jess pulled out his cellphone, glancing at the screen. One text from his mother, asking whether he was still going to be able to drive her and Doula back to New York after the wedding and then another from Luke, reminding him for the fifty-first time that he had to drive up to Stars Hollow that weekend for his tux fitting.

It was almost like Luke was under the impression that Jess had the memory of a goldfish, though if Jess was under the control of Emily Gilmore... he would most likely be the same bundle of nerves. He hadn't gotten to see the beast that was Mrs. Gilmore planning her only daughter's wedding, but apparently the woman was formidable. 

He sent back a confirmation back to both in time to turn and catch Olive coming toward him with his drink. 

"Thanks, Olive," he smiled, taking the cup. 

"Stay warm, Jess," she replied pleasantly, turning around to make the next drink. 

He forced his still-frozen legs to drag himself to the little booth in the corner, dropping into the seat next to Chris and drooping back to sip his drink.

"How was your holiday?" Matthew asked, looking at Jess with mild sympathy. Another swallow and Jess set down his cup, straightening his posture. 

"Busy. Spent a week in California, Christmas in New York, and a few days after that in Connecticut. Lots of driving," Jess counted off, dropping his phone on the table. "Ended up giving the rest of the poems a read, though. So we're ahead for the compilation," he nodded.

"Jeez," Matthew said. "I didn't even leave town and I could barely manage responding to a text. I don't know if you really know what a vacation is supposed to be."

"I offered to take you with me to Cancun," Chris reminded. 

Jess waved them both off. "Figured I'd give you a head start since I'm taking another vacation in a month," he reminded them.

"Can being the best man in a wedding really be considered a vacation?"

"Think about it, Matt," Chris tapped his fingers to his temple. "At the very least, he'll have some time off from working. The bachelor party will be the first party he's been to in a year that he hasn't been working at." 

"Maybe he can find a date to the reception," Matthew mused, scanning the mostly empty room for a possible suitrix. 

If he hadn't just swallowed his mouthful of latte, it might have come out of Jess's nose. "The thought of finding a date in Stars Hollow doesn't seem entirely likely," he reckoned, remembering the general contempt that all of his classmates had held for him. 

Chris nodded in agreeance. "Yeah, what were you thinking, Matt? No way he'd get a date to the wedding."

"You don't think he's cute enough?" Matthew teased, winking at Jess from across the table.

Jess raised an eyebrow in return, trying to recreate the smouldering look that they'd observed their friend Thomas attempting a few days before. It earned a snort from Matthew.

"Jess can't even find a date when they try to fall into his lap every day for months. He definitely couldn't manage in a hostile environment," Chris shrugged. "Has nothing to do with how cute our boy is."

"Hey-" Jess started, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Don't 'hey' us," Chris interjected, holding up his hand. "We've been trying to clue you in for days." He subtly pointed through his body and toward the counter.

"Olive?" Jess asked, glancing back and forth from Chris to Matthew. 

"Olive," Matthew nodded. 

"Has she said anything to you?" Jess questioned, trying to subtly peek over at the barista while she worked. This earned him a pair of eye rolls. "It's not like you're mind readers. What makes you think she has any interest in me?"

Wordlessly, Chris grabbed Jess's coffee cup and turned it over so that he could point at the smiley face that punctuated his name. 

"Ahh..." Jess murmured, thinking back as to how many times there'd been some sort of drawing on his cup. More times than not, really. 

"Yeah. Ahh." Chris set down the cup and picked up his own to finish the last dregs of his coffee. "Why d'you think we've been coming to this place so damn often?"

"It's been pretty painful to watch you miss all of the flirting," Matthew chimed in. "And that's coming from me."

A low blow. Jess had spent a lot of time watching jokes and references fly over Matthew's head. The times he'd seen the guy flirting had been... well, painful was definitely accurate there. He stared down at his drink for, running his thumb over the smiley face. Olive was sweet; short, plump, and always with a smile on her rosey face. He was mildly surprised to find that he didn't feel any hesitation before speaking. "Well. I don't think I'll take her to the wedding either way. Doesn't mean I can't ask her out for a drink sometime, though."

Matthew let out a hoot of celebration, pumping his fist into the air. The following expression was one of immediate regret, an expression shared by Chris and Jess. They all shrank down into their seats, aware of the eyes that had turned in their direction. 

"So, you might not have a date to the wedding, but at least you'll have some time to relax. Sit back and read something that you don't have to correct for once?" Chris suggested.

"Yeah," Jess agreed. "I'll stop by a bookstore before I go, pick up something random. Probably won't get a chance to finish it, knowing Stars Hollow."

"It'll at least be better than the last wedding I went to," Matthew grimaced. "It was a shit show. There was almost a fist fight over the mayoral election as soon as my cousins got a few drinks in them."

Jess chuckled and shook his head. "I don't think that anyone is that politically minded in Stars Hollow. Except Luke, maybe, and he's too busy managing his mother-in-law-to-be."

"The mythical Emily Gilmore," Chris nodded. "I hope to one day meet the savage woman."

"Call her savage to her face and you might not live through the experience," Jess warned. 

"It is with the greatest respect," Chris insisted. "I think that a woman who has such a commanding reputation precede herself must truly be a force to be reckoned with."

"Spoken like the pretentious writer that you are," Matthew teased. 

In truth, the thought seeing Mrs. Gilmore again was something that had shaken Jess's nerves. The last time had hardly been a success, leaving him to suspect that she had a less than favorable opinion of him. Though, this time he was going to simply be a member of the ceremony and not a potential member of her immediate and prestigious family. Plus, he was an adult. No matter what she felt about him, Jess's life would remain unchanged. 

Either way, he imagined that Rory's ire wouldn't be exacerbating the situation this time around. They'd been relatively friendly for a while now, trading book titles and general life updates about once a week. Her holiday reading list had truly been impressive considering that she only got a week off of work from Christmas to New Years. She'd always been impressive.

The fact that she was working so hard on the Obama campaign was just a small part of the awe he felt, though he imagined that it was a large part of her future resume. She'd mentioned something about writing and rewriting her resume a short while ago, though he wasn't sure if she had actually managed to finish it and send it in anywhere.

Was he seriously worried about her ability to meet a deadline? He would have laughed out loud if he didn't think that he'd have to explain to Matt and Chris afterward. No one had ever had to have that worry with Rory. 

"-just seems a little too cheesy, though. Doesn't it?" 

Shit. He was expected to answer?

"What is?" Jess asked, tuning back into the conversation.

"Your uncle having the wedding on Valentine's Day," Matthew repeated. 

"It's not on Valentine's Day," Jess said, shaking his head. "No, they chose the fifteenth. Lorelai says that's the day that all the chocolate goes on sale."

 

* * *

 

_**February 13th. Wednesday.** _

_'I remember too well how I thought at times when it comes down to rock bottom, I didn’t care tuppence about anything, or anybody, except myself; and that everybody else was the same. If this is true, it is something a man should not-'_

The phone was ringing again and no one seemed to notice. Jess looked up from his book, trying to peer into the kitchen and setting eyes on Luke, bent over Lorelai's chair to watch her do something on her laptop screen. They were ridiculously stressed for two people who'd declared that night as the night of calm before the storm that was their rehearsal dinner. Their last night of freedom.

Jess stole another handful of monogrammed M&Ms as the ringing cut off once again, turning back to the book in his lap.

_'If this is true, it is something a man should not know. It may be it was the one lesson we learnt from the Occupation, but it was the wrong-'_

The ringer again. He groaned quietly and slipped a bookmark between the pages before dropping his paperback onto the coffee table, between the pizza and the plate of cookies, and walked toward the kitchen. 

"You do know that someone's calling, don't you? They've tried three times in the last ten minutes," Jess asked, leaning against the doorframe in the entryway of the kitchen. Luke glanced up at him, almost as though he was surprised to find him in the house. 

"The phone?"

"The phone rings; it rings for thee," he nodded, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. Luke jogged into the other room, answering before whoever was calling could be sent to voicemail yet again.

Jess glanced at Lorelai's computer screen, watching her type with the speed of someone undistracted by her surroundings. Not wanting to disturb her, he slipped to the fridge with as little sound as he could to grab a soda. Once he'd cracked the door open, all he found there was an overabundance of condiments, a half eaten burger in some tupperware, and a case of beer. 

"Everything edible's already out on the coffee table." Jess turned around just in time to see Lorelai getting up from her chair and shutting her laptop lid. She rounded the kitchen table to get to the fridge, grabbing herself one of the beers left in the six-pack. She picked a second one and held it out to Jess. "Want one?"

He couldn't help but see this as a full-circle moment.

"Yeah, sure," Jess shrugged, taking the bottle and shutting the door. He and Lorelai had reached a place where they mutually and silently agreed not to acknowledge any of the things they'd said in the past. It would just dredge up more issues than it was worth to either of them. 

Yet more ill-will buried in the past by his decision to let his relationship with Rory lie where it was.

Jess offered Lorelai a smile and the bottle opener once his own cap was popped off. They drank in the quiet, listening to Luke's unintelligible but clearly irritated words drift in from the hall. The phone call ended. Luke grumbled back into the kitchen.

"Well, you seem downright chipper," Jess commented, exchanging a look with Lorelai before looking back at his uncle. 

"Paint a smile on his face and he might just rival good ol' Ronald," She said, stepping forward and offering him a sip of his beer. He gladly accepted.

"Your mother said that she was going to manage her," Luke complained once he'd had a good few swallows. 

"Manage who?" Lorelai asked.

"That woman. Charlene."

"Charlotte," She corrected, adding "the wedding planner" for Jess's benefit. 

"Charlotte. She just had to call at 10:30 and ask me about whether we wanted Checkmate or Spanish Dress petals for the flower girl to carry. Of course, I said we just wanted roses, because that's what you told me was happening, and then she just repeated the question," Luke griped.

Lorelai smiled, clearly amused. "Well, those are different kinds of roses-"

"Oh, I know that now. But I still don't know why we should care."

"Well, if you want my opinion, I think that the Checkmate one would be more cohesive with the overall feeling you'd want for the wedding," Jess said, glad that he could sound so sure over something had had absolutely no idea about. The look of pure fire in Luke's eyes was enough to make it truly worth it. "I think I'm gonna head out. I'll see you guys tomorrow for the rehearsal." He raised his beer to his lips and downed it, setting the glass on the counter before turning to leave. 

"Be there at three, Jess. No later than three," Luke called. 

"Really? I was thinking of coming around five-thirty," he responded, collecting his book from the living room and shoving it into his back pocket. Just as he was grabbing his coat from the hook by the door, the phone rang again. 

"Son of a bitch!"

Jess concealed his chuckle and popped back into the hallway before Luke could step out of the kitchen, taking the bullet for his stressed out uncle and answering the phone.

"Gilmore residence."

"... Hello? Who's this?"

"You called here. Who're you?" Jess asked, waving Luke off and turning around to go back to the living room. 

"It's Rory."

Oh.

Jess dropped onto the couch and cleared his throat.

"It's Jess. Luke was losing his mind with all the phone calls, figured I'd take one for the team," he said casually, kicking his feet up.

"They're swamped, huh?" She sighed, sounding resigned.

"Yeah. Surprisingly enough, they've managed to have things to do before the wedding."

"Probably why they forgot me," she speculated. 

"Forgot you?" Jess repeated, glancing up at Lorelai while she climbed the stairs. She froze on the spot and turned around, staring at Jess like a deer in headlights. 

 _'Is that Rory?'_  She mouthed, pointing at the phone in his hand. Jess's nod sent Lorelai running back into the kitchen. 

"Yeah. I just got into Hartford. Mom was supposed to meet me here and drive me back, but I can just catch a cab to my grandparents' place." 

"From what I hear, you're not gonna want to do that," Jess remarked, standing when Luke and Lorelai both hurried back into the room, whispering hurriedly to each other. 

Rory hummed in response, obviously tired. "Why not?"

"The Gilmore clan is in full wedding-mode. It might not be safe to adjust the schedule," he responded, covering the receiver so that Rory couldn't hear what he said next. "You forgot she was flying in tonight?"

"He forgot!" Lorelai insisted, pointing a finger at her exhausted fiance. Luke shot her a look and then reached for the phone. Jess stepped back.

"Well, then I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do from here. I don't think I can afford the cab fare for a ride all the way to Stars Hollow at this time of night," Rory admitted.

"I can come get you, then," Jess offered, nodding at Lorelai when she mouthed 'really?' to him.

"I don't want to put you out-" 

"It's really not an issue. I was just gonna go back to the diner and read. Nothing I can't do later," he insisted. "Here, I'll give your mom the phone and start heading your way." 

"Thanks, Jess."

He paused, his heart faltering for a moment. 

"Yeah. No problem." He held the phone out for Lorelai and headed toward the door again, zipping his coat up and looking for his snow boots. Luke followed him into the front room. 

"I can go get Rory, Jess," Luke started, his tone sounding ever-so-slightly reproachful.

"I only had one beer. I'm not even buzzed," Jess shrugged, kneeling down to tie up his boot once he wedged his foot inside. 

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just don't know how friendly you guys are... If you'd be uncomfortable being alone with Rory, or something?" 

This was the incredibly tired version of what was probably a gesture of parental concern. 

"That's not a problem anymore. We're past all of that stuff. You might call us friends, even," he joked, standing up. 

"Friends?" Luke questioned.

"Yeah. Friends. Platonic friends," Jess confirmed, opening the front door. "You should get some sleep. You need your beauty rest. Tomorrow's a big day." And with a wink, Jess slipped outside into the cold night and jogged through the snow to his car. 

 

_

 

Parked between a minivan and a white and blue taxi, Jess decided that it would be advisable to turn down the angst-ridden indie rock. He didn't need to be confronted by any of the overtired mothers of three that would take offense to the lyrics of this music.

He lowered the volume of the stereo and wrestled his cellphone out of the crack between his seat and the center console. Jess barely had enough time to type out a message to Rory ('I'm right out front') before he heard a tap-tap-tap on his passenger-side window. Thankfully enough, the tapper wasn't a sleep deprived soccer mom, but Rory Gilmore herself. 

She looked much better than someone who'd just been on a four hour flight should be allowed to look. 

Thoughts of that manner shouldn't be entertained, especially not late at night. Instead, Jess climbed out of the car and jogged around the front to lift one of the suitcases from Rory's grip.

"I thought that you were only staying for a few days," Jess smiled, dragging the bag to the back of the car and lifting the lid of the trunk open. "You pack like you're moving back home."

"I plan to commandeer the washing machine," Rory nodded, lifting the second suitcase and her carry-on bag in with the bag Jess had packed away. "It's much harder to get your laundry done right when you're sharing a laundromat with fifteen other people."

Jess hummed in response, slamming the trunk shut and rounding toward the driver's door. "Well, I hope that you get your laundry done the right way, then. I imagine that your version of 'right' is with more categories than most people know exist."

He slid into his seat and buckled himself safely before turning his attention back to Rory. "You look more rested than I would have expected, knowing how hard you're probably working."

A tired laugh escaped Rory's throat. "Well, that's a carefully cultivated sheen of adulthood. I'm probably kept together with only scotch tape and dried white out at this point."

That earned a laugh in response from Jess. After turning the music up a bit, Jess peeled out of the airport lot. He felt less relaxed than he had been just five minutes ago. Where he had been blasting his speakers to keep his mind awake enough to drive, now he was sitting forward over the steering wheel, his fingertips buzzing with energy. This silently frenetic energy was absolutely born from the fact that they hadn't seen each other since the open house. Since he'd kissed her and she'd told him that she was still in love with  _him_. Jess's chest tightened. It'd been almost two full years since they had been in such close proximity, just by happenstance of their busy schedules, and since then he had been able to convince himself that he didn't feel any trace of what he used to taste in every breath. In the quiet between them now, or at least in the guitar riffs playing over the lack of conversation, there hung a pregnant moment.

Jess wasn't sure how long he'd been thinking about what to say. It didn't matter anyway, since before he could find the words his thoughts were interrupted by a gentle snore. A brief look to the side and he found Rory asleep. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun and her lips were slightly parted. If he had a free hand, he would have adjusted the angle of her neck as it looked uncomfortable, but instead he turned his eyes back to the road. 

It was for the best, then.

 

___

**February 14th. Thursday.**

 

The coziness of a Friday night dinner, albeit on a Thursday, was a welcome thing. Rory had been raised to accommodate the diet of fast food and Chinese takeout that she was subsisting off of, but that didn't mean she didn't sometimes miss the sit-down meals from her grandparents' house. The key difference between the regular Friday night dinner and what they were doing in that moment was that instead of the diners being just herself, her mother, and her mother's parents, they had added Luke, her mother's husband-to-be, Sookie and Jackson, the maid of honor and her husband, and Jess. 

It was hard to really say what Jess was, beyond just being a nephew to Luke. Yes, by law they would be family in about... eighteen and a half hours, but she couldn't ever really consider him part of her family. They couldn't even consider themselves friends at this point, could they? The pair had been texting relatively regularly, but beyond those small book recommendations and check-ins, they hadn't talked. Maybe it was better that way, seeing as they'd never really been just friends to begin with. The physical distance often resting between them was enough so that neither of them had to truly consider how they might want to move forward- or not move forward, should that be the case.

Rory had recognized this hesitance to assimilate him into her family group early on and had resigned herself to blaming that feeling on the fact that she once considered losing her virginity to him. No one would think twice about it if the situation were properly explained, that she and Jess had been together long before they were ever cousin-in-laws. That didn't mean that the term 'cousin' didn't make her feel uncomfortable enough to deny it to him.

Everyone else was wrapped into the middle of a story about how obviously oblivious her mother and Luke had been to each other's feelings. For years they'd danced around the topic and now, despite everything, they were finally concluding the love story. She should probably have tune in.

"-and the way that he would just do absolutely anything for her! You know, he fixed her skates once. She and Rory were planning on ice skating and as soon as he saw the rust on the blades, he just stole them from her so that he could fix them up," Sookie giggled, sipping on the last of her wine. Luke looked genuinely embarrassed by the story, though he was very possibly pleased by the way that Lorelai was grinning at the memory.

"Oh, I knew they were interested in each other from the moment I met him. The very moment," Emily declared, smiling proudly. "I told Lorelai as much, but she wouldn't listen to me- not that that was much of a shock."

"They wouldn't listen to anyone!" Sookie agreed. "I know that I tried loads of times."

"It wasn't like you two were the most clued in!" Lorelai retorted good-naturedly waving her wine glass between Sookie and Jackson. Luke caught the glass from her hand, setting it on the table before she could slosh the wine onto the white table cloth. Lorelai smiled at him before continuing. "You were arguing like children every time you saw each other. At least we were friends."

"You're absolutely right," Jackson nodded, taking a sip of his beer before continuing, "our months of arguing is completely comparable to twelve years of pretending not to see what literally every other person on Earth saw."

Another table-wide laugh. Rory caught her mother's eye and they shared a smile. She hadn't realized how much she had missed home.

Lorelai's mouth opened, most likely to protest at the teasing, but she was interrupted by her own joy at seeing the dessert being brought out by a small group of servers. Sookie and Emily broke off into their own conversation about the food: miniature raspberry pavolva macaroons and two full trays of multicolored tea tarts. Emily's explanation was that they would have enough cake at the reception, no need for any more. Plus, Lorelai had always loved the apple tarts. 

While she loaded up her own plate with at least one of each type of dessert, suppressing an amused smile when she caught Jess sniff at a particularly green-looking one. 

"Pear, I'm guessing," She offered, catching his eye and nodding at the treat in his hand. "The strawberry ones are really good. Apple, too." 

"Thanks," he nodded, using the tongs to grab a pair of each. In the next second, their gazes met again and Rory could feel the acknowledgement there. The understanding born from that look was that was one thing to talk over text, to have shallow conversations. Could they move past that and toward actual friendship when just a polite smile could constrict her airway with guilt? She'd treated him horribly the last time they were together.

If she hadn't been so exhausted the night before, Rory might have reveled in this feeling a little longer and found some course of action. Now, all she could manage was small talk over the value of pastries. 

The urge to say something to Jess, to offer some sort of apology, was almost overwhelming. Saving her from herself, Richard stood up to raise his glass in a toast to his daughter, leaving Rory to sink back into her seat and stare at the food on her plate. What was she going to say to him in front of her family? 'Sorry that I used you to revenge-cheat on my boyfriend when I knew full well that you had feelings for me'? She didn't see that going over well.

"Well, Luke," Richard nodded, raising his glass of newly topped off wine. "I know that you have long suffered the drama of the Gilmore clan and I would like to commend you for coming out on top. You make Lorelai happy. I've always known that she would find happiness some day, and I truly believe that you helped her to get there as quickly as possible. You helped her start her business, you were a reliable resource for both Lorelai and her daughter, and you have given her this feeling," he gesture to his daughter, who might have been close to tearing up, "this feeling of love and safety. I can not thank you enough for that, and I am glad to call you a member of my family."

 

-

 

 

"Dinner was amazing, Grandma, really," Rory smiled, wrapping her arms around Emily's shoulders for a tight embrace. 

"I'm so glad that you enjoyed it," Emily responded, kissing Rory's cheek and releasing her granddaughter. "I'll save you all of the leftovers, that way you'll have something decent to eat when you fly back- you're sure you have to go after tomorrow?"

"I do," Rory lamented, looking over her shoulder toward her mother and Luke. They were saying an amorous goodbye that, had they been completely sober, they might not have done in the front hall of the Gilmore house. Rory let out a short laugh and turned back. "But I'll see you all day yesterday. And I'll be back in April for mom's birthday."

"Then you're gone again for months!" Emily protested. 

"It'll all be over by January," Rory assured her, giving one last hug. Behind her there was a clatter of something falling to the floor and a burst of laughter. By the time Rory had turned around, Jess was already scooping a metal ashtray off of the ground and replacing it onto the table while Lorelai whispered to Luke, holding him to her level with her scarf around his neck. "I've got to get her home."

She crossed the floor and placed her hand on her mother's shoulder, not particularly wanting to know what it was she said that made Luke's face turn that shade of pink. 

"We've gotta go, mom. It's gonna snow soon, don't want to be driving when it starts."

"Buzzkill," Lorelai whined, pecking Luke's lips before wrapping her scarf around his neck another time. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"I'll be the one in white," Luke replied, kissing her forehead.

"No, that's  _me_. Remember?"

"How could I forget?" Luke groaned, his grin widening. Rory playfully rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around her mother's waist to peel her away from her fiance. 

"You've got him?" Rory asked Jess, pulling Lorelai's arm over her shoulder to prepare for the ice outside. 

"No problem," Jess said, pulling his dark green hat down over his ears. The hat made his eyes look a little bit lighter, oddly enough. 

"Then I'll see you tomorrow. C'mon, mom," Rory sighed, pulling Lorelai toward the exit, pulling open the door and calling her last goodbyes while she braced herself against the biting cold. 

Traversing the driveway was a lot easier after Jackson shoveled a walkway from the doorway to his car, which had been parked just behind Lorelai's jeep. Rory didn't bother getting Lorelai to the passenger side, instead packing her into the backseat and buckling her in.

"Man, you're such a good kid, Rory," Lorelai sighed, reaching out to hold Rory's cheeks between her palms. The corners of Rory's mouth tipped upward and she grabbed her mother's wrists, laying them in her lap. 

"Thanks, mom. I appreciate it. You're a good mom."

"Damn right I am!"

Rory let out a soft huff of laughter and shut the car door, turning just in time to see Jess attempting to do the same with Luke. Seemed that he needed to be corralled more than Lorelai had. Carefully, Rory walked across the drive to offer her help.

"Luke, you have to get in. Can't get married tomorrow if you're stuck in Hartford," she pointed out, trading a look with a slightly exasperated Jess. Luke muttered something under his breath and nodded. Probably wasn't anything profound. 

"Can you grab the door?" Jess asked, shifting his footing so that he could catch Luke before he slid on a patch of ice. 

"Sure." Rory pulled the door of Jess's new silver Chevy and stood back so that Luke could be fit into the passenger's seat. Once Luke was buckled in, Rory closed the door and let her attention fall fully on Jess.

There wasn't any music to fill the silence this time. The snow had a way of making the world sound even quieter than it would have any other time. 

"So... I guess I'll see you at the wedding, then?" Jess offered, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and glancing at Luke while he fought with the stereo in the truck. 

"And the reception," Rory agreed, wishing that she could say something else. Maybe something profound that could fix this uncomfortable feeling in her gut. Would apologizing fix anything or just make it worse?

"And the reception," Jess echoed, rocking from foot to foot. Another pause. "I've gotta get him home," he said, gesturing to Luke with his head.

"Oh, totally," Rory nodded, taking a step backward. "Go ahead."

He extended a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, and headed toward the driver's door. Rory watched him, the itching feeling crawling back up her spine for the second time that night. 

"Uh- Hey, Jess?" 

Oh god... What was she going to say?

Jess turned around, his hand on the door handle. "Yeah?" 

Her stomach was tying itself in knots.

"We're friends, right? Or, I mean... we can be?" 

That seemed to take him by surprise. His eyes were adamantine and unreadable, maybe only  for a second. 

"We are friends. We're always going to be friends."

"Right," she said, her heart lightening. At the very least he wasn't angry with her, even if he wasn't acting like he used to. She just missed the rhythm that they had together, once upon a time. "Good. I'm going to- I've got to go take her home." She pointed her thumb back at the jeep holding her mother. 

"See you tomorrow, Rory." 

 "Bye, Jess." 

Rory turned on her heel and headed back to the jeep, climbing in and starting up the engine. 

 

\---

 

**_February 15th Friday._ **

"They're disgusting," Rory said, watching her mother and Luke lean into each other, their faces split in half with delighted smiles. They'd been smiling through the entire ceremony and into the reception, only breaking to greet the few people that ventured to break their concentration.

Lane shrugged, picking a chocolate covered strawberry off of Rory's plate. "It's gross, yeah. But in a really nice way, don't you think? They're really happy." 

Rory nodded, swatting Lane's hand away when she tried to steal more food. "You do know that you can just go get some of your own, right?" 

"Of course I can," Lane agreed, "but my plan for the night is to move as little as possible. This is the first time in months that I've been out of the house past seven and I've got to conserve my energy. Zach already wants to dance after we play our song, so I have to make sure that I don't fall asleep right after that." 

"Motherhood sounds like an ordeal." Rory raised her arm to wave at Paris as she  escaped the dance floor. 

"Friend, I have never loved anyone as much as Kwan and Steve. Sure, I'm constantly drained and exhausted, but at least that's something Zach and I can bond over."

"Where's Doyle?" Rory asked, offering Paris one of the cookies left on her plate. 

"He was appropriated by Stars Hollow's Elizabeth Taylor," Paris pointed back to Doyle, currently being being held close by a pleased looking Miss Patty. 

"Ahh." All three women watched the pair twirl for a bit. Just to their right was Emily and Richard, neither of whom were moving fast enough for the music. Nonetheless, they looked... sublime. It was something else, to know that two people could be so in love after everything they went through together. It was something to aspire to, to be able to build a life as happy as theirs. 

"You ready?" 

Paris and Rory turned to their left to see Zach helping Lane up to her feet.

"Hey, Rory. Paris," Zach nodded, his right arm snaking around Lane's waist. "We've gotta go set up. Almost time to play the-"

"The song you wrote, yeah," Rory nodded. 

"It was totally Lane's idea," he bragged, squeezing his wife a little tighter. "Anyway, we do have to go. Brian and Gil are waiting." 

"See you later. And save a dance for me!" Rory called after Lane, watching them disappear into the fold. 

"You want to dance?" Paris asked, raising an eyebrow. "We can dance."

"Oh? Sure, that'd be great. Let's do it after the song though. They wrote it as a thank you for letting them use or garage for a practice space when Mrs. Kim was against the whole music-making idea," Rory explained, standing and picking up her half full glass of champagne. "I'll be back, I just want to go to talk to my mom."

Rory started toward the higher table, where she'd originally been sitting. She'd moved places to sit between Lane and Paris after she gave her maid-of-honor speech, wanting to be able to both give Lorelai and Luke their time together and catch up with her friends for once. Working on the Obama campaign was an amazing job, but it kept her sorely out of the loop.

"Hey, mom?" Rory prompted, leaning forward so that Lorelai could hear her over the music and chatter of the crowd. It seemed like all of Stars Hollow had come out to celebrate with them, a real feat seeing as the ballroom was halfway to Hartford. 

It was almost as though Lorelai had to tear herself away from looking at Luke's face. She'd always said that she loved Rory more than anything and anyone else, and Rory believed that, but there was no mistaking the fact that Luke just made her  _happy_. Pure happiness was hard to come by for a lot of people. 

"Rory! Where've you been?" Lorelai asked, standing and leaning over the table to hug her daughter. 

"I snuck away when you two started to talk about the honeymoon," Rory admitted, returning the kiss on the cheek she had received. "I mean, I'm sure that you'll have fun, but I don't feel the need to hear everything you're planning on doing."

"Fair, fair," Lorelai nodded, standing straight and turning to her husband. "Think you'll miss me if I walk away?" 

"Mmm..." Luke looked his wife over, pretending to consider. "Probably. But I think I might survive."

Lorelai laid a gentle kiss on his lips and looked back at Rory. "C'mon, kid. I want to talk to you," she nodded, waving Rory to follow after her while she gathered their coats from the backs of their chairs. Rory gladly took hers, waiting until they were in the entry hall before pulling hers on. 

Once the two of them were outside, under the overhang, they stopped to watch the snow fall. Lorelai slung her arm around Rory's shoulders, Rory's around her mother's waist, and they existed in this comfortable silence for a minute, maybe two. 

"I'm so happy for you, mom," Rory said quietly, watching the way that the lights made the fabric of her mother's skirt sparkle. 

"And I'm so proud of you, Rory," Lorelai started, lifting her dress up while she turned her body to face Rory's. "You work so hard at this job and then- I mean, your speech?" 

"You gave me everything, mom. You're my best friend," Rory cut in, shaking her head. 

"You're my best friend too." Lorelai took Rory's hands and squeezed them gently. "I just want you to know that I'm so happy that you're here. I know you weren't going to miss it, I just... you and Luke are my people and not having you here would have been wrong. I don't know if I could have done it, I don't know if Luke could have." Rory could feel her eyes starting to sting with the threat of tears, but she didn't wipe them away. "I'm sorry that we didn't get to spend more time together. I mean, I forgot you at the airport and then I passed out right after you got home-" 

"The wedding has kept you so busy-" Rory tried."

"-and I still want to spend time with you. I talked to Luke and he said that he's gonna go home when this is over to finish packing for the Honeymoon. He's going to talk Jess into sleeping over at the house so that the two of us can have the diner to ourselves, yeah? We can have a real movie night together before you have to head out again."

Rory couldn't stop the single tear that dripped down her cheek, but she did hide it with the bear hug she gave her mother. They called, texted, Skyped, everything. None of it had anything on being together, in person. Her chest was bursting with waves of homesickness, the feelings that she'd pressed down to do her work.

It meant so much to know that, even on her wedding night, her mother would put her first. Of course she would put her first. 

"That sounds good?" Lorelai prompted softly, combing her fingers through Rory's hair.

"Great," Rory nodded, pulling back and wiping her eyes. Lorelai's cheeks were wet with her own tears. "It sounds great. I can get the snacks from the house."

"Day-old-pizza sounds great, doesn't it?" Lorelai teased. "Let's go back inside. Won't want anyone to think we ran away from another wedding."

Rory let out a burst of laughter, stepping toward the door and opening it for her mother. "I don't think that I need to visit Harvard again."

The two Lorelais walked back into the reception, only to see that Hep Alien had taken the stage and were just finishing their set up. Rory left her mother with another hug before weaving her way back to the table with Paris and a tired looking Doyle. She watched her mother join Luke back up at the main table and watched as he helped her mother pull off her coat and hang it on her chair before they went off to dance together.

Rory's eyes had just left her mother's face and were on their way back to search for her lost glass of champagne along the high table when they slid past Jess. In what must have been an obvious expression of shock, Rory's eyes snapped back to meet his for the sparest portion of a second.

A spike of electricity ran down Rory's spine and her face whipped back around to face her empty plate, her cheeks turning pink. Thankfully enough, it didn't seem anyone noticed either because of the tinge from the cold weather or the focus on what Zach was saying into the microphone. Either way, Rory was left alone with her thoughts.

Had Jess really been looking at her? She would ask Paris to look for her, but the subtlety her former roommate could manage wouldn't be nearly enough for that moment. 

His expression was that of someone engrossed in his own thoughts, so it could be that he hadn't meant to look at Rory. Perhaps his eyes were stuck on the empty space between them while he thought things completely unrelated. But the intensity of his gaze had already seared itself into her brain... he had to have been looking at her. 

She would never really know what he was looking at or whether she was right as, by the time she'd turned to check again, he was deep in conversation with Caesar. 

 


	4. Chapter three: 2008 (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with the birthdays.
> 
> (Also, the reason that Luke and Lorelai are so central? https://jessmarianogilmore.tumblr.com/post/186692391131 )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as the Lorelai/Christopher wedding is a mistake of the largest proportions, such that even Lauren Graham forgot that it happened, it didn't happen. End note.

**April 25th, Friday.**

 

"It's no small thing to be published in the Post, Rory," Richard said, waving his fork as her dismissive tone. "Sure, it might not be the Times, but it is still a major publication. Your talent is being recognized by some very important people."

"Plus, the more you're published, the more likely you'll be to get a serious job after this whole campaign is over," Emily added, wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

The two had been gushing over the profile she'd done on new fiction trends ("Our Obsession with Dystopias; What It Means For Now") all night, showing off the pile of papers they'd acquired, one of which was framed and hung in a place of honor. She was worried that they'd have professional lighting the next time she stopped by. Not that Luke was much better.

"She'll have a bunch of jobs beating down the door when January rolls around," Luke nodded, beaming over at Rory. "Everyone that comes into the diner talks about how smart it is, too."

"I don't think they'd get service if they didn't," Lorelai teased, rubbing Luke's back encouragingly. She was immensely proud, but she'd already made all of her 'can I get your autograph' jokes before they'd gotten to dinner. 

It wasn't as if Rory didn't feel proud of herself. She was just able to recognize that this was a lucky break that didn't necessarily mean anything for her future. Everyone on the campaign had had something published by now. It was hard not to see the arduous road ahead of her, even despite the pack of cheerleaders she had. If Babette and Morey were any gauge, the entirety of Stars Hollow was also rooting for her. 

For now, she had to focus mostly on building her resume and finalizing her portfolio. She wanted to find a place where she was actually be able to write regularly, but should the right place offer her an internship she would have to take it. Now that she had real experience, it had to be easier than it had been last Spring. Lately, she'd been haunted by a dream where she was rejected from every single paper, even the Stars Hollow Gazette. Seeing this, Chilton rescinded her acceptance and her high school diploma, which lead to Yale doing the same thing because she wasn't even a high school graduate. Her life spiraled out of control after that...

"I'm just glad that I got approved for time off work to come home for mom's birthday. They almost asked me to stay and postpone the trip for a few days, but my roommate bit that bullet . Now I owe her a few orders of takeout, but I think it'll all end up working out," she shrugged. 

"It is my birthday. Thought you guys plum forgot about me too, though that's understandable with such a celebrity in our midst," Lorelai winked, plucking the last bite of cake off of her plate and eating it quickly. With  _incredible_ stealth, Luke shot Rory a prompting look. 

"Luke, don't you have that car thing to do?" Rory said, delivering her line flawlessly.

"Car thing?" Emily echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah," Luke nodded, setting his napkin on the table. "I've got to go meet up with Gypsy, she's the town's mechanic. My truck's been making this funny noise and- well, I guess that makes it a truck thing." Cue convincing laugh.

"Isn't it a little late to be bothering a mechanic?" asked Richard, looking down at the time on his watch. "Why don't I just look at it for you?" 

"I uh- I already paid her? For the inconvenience, I paid her. She has a busy schedule and all that. Plus, we took Lorelai's Jeep, so I have to go home and get it anyway." He stood up and pushed his chair in, leaning on the back of it. "I wouldn't ask Lorelai and Rory to come with me if I didn't need a ride back." 

Rory's eyes shifted over to her mother, wondering why she hadn't pointed out some hole in Luke's incredibly flawed excuse to leave, but Lorelai seemed to be going along with it wholeheartedly. She knew something was up, it was the only reason for that innocent a face.

"Well... alright then," Emily said, looking at Richard with evident confusion. "I don't see a reason to keep you any longer than we already have. Especially not with Lorelai feeling under the weather." 

Luke looked relieved with the dismissal. "I'll go pull up the car. I don't want you to have to walk through the rain," he said to Lorelai, kissing the top of her head before making his way to the door. 

"Rain? It's only drizzling," Richard commented, peering out the windows. The glass was barely speckled with water droplets.

"Well, you know Luke," Lorelai dismissed, standing and smoothing out her sweater. "Thanks again for the projector Mom, Dad."

The group slowly migrated to the front hall, standing near the door to wait for Luke. 

"Oh, Richard, will you go get the books we bought for Rory? You don't want to forget," Emily reminded, pointing over to the study. Richard nodded and hurried off. Once they were alone, she turned on her daughter with the stern tell-me-what-I-want-to-know look.

Lorelai laughed. "Luke's got a surprise party planned back home," she revealed. Rory was only marginally surprised.

"Did Kirk tell you? Luke might kill him," Rory mumbled, slipping into her jacket while they waited. 

"Kirk? No. That Gypsy story is probably the lamest attempt he's ever made to lie in his life. Can you see her waiting around after hours for anything less than a million dollars? Especially not when Andrew's sister is in town."

"Are they together yet? Gypsy and Hannah?" Rory wasn't exactly up to date on town gossip, but she'd hope that her mother kept her in the loop on major developments. 

"No, not yet. Sookie thinks they'll get together soon, but Jackson says that he'll give it another few visits before either of them make a move," Lorelai shrugs, her eyes drawn to the door when Luke steps back in. 

"All ready?" He asked, wrapping an arm around Lorelai's waist once he was by her side. 

"Don't leave just yet!" Richard returned to the room, paper and twine package in hand. "Your grandmother and I thought you might appreciate these," he grinned, gingerly handing the present over. 

"They're early editions of Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, in English of course. We couldn't find any first editions, but we're keeping our eye out," Emily assured her. Rory traded a surprised look with her mother and Luke, both of whom looked impressed by the find.

"Before you protest, we thought you deserved them, considering how hard you've been working," Emily insisted, reading the look on Rory's face before she could express any hesitance. 

"Well... thank you," Rory murmured, dragging her fingers over the paper packaging to feel what was probably the display case underneath. She couldn't wait to feel the paper underneath her fingertips. "Thank you so much." 

Rory took the time to hug her grandparents individually, giving her mother the books first so that she might not damage the packaging. The books in hand again, she tucked them into her jacket to protect from the rain outside, stepping out the door and jogging to hop into the back seat of the Jeep. Followed quickly by her mother and Luke, who opened the passenger door for Lorelai before getting in himself, Rory settled back into her seat. She was in awe of these books, though she hadn't seen them yet.

They were once read in Paris, she imagined. They were read by someone sitting on the edge of the Seine on a sunny day, the smell of summer running along the pages with the breeze that touched the paper. Rory could barely manage to participate in the conversation on the way home, focusing on suppressing the urge to tear off the paper then and there. 

Before she knew it, they were parked in front of the house, everything looking just as calm and empty as they'd left it. She'd almost forgotten about the party.

In Stars Hollow the rain had long since stopped, so the books remained in her hands while she, Luke, and Lorelai all headed for the front door. Luke said that he'd left Babette in charge of getting everyone hidden; judging by the misplaced hide-a-key turtle, she'd succeeded. 

Luke entered the house first, helping Lorelai take off her jacket in the darkened hallway. "Why don't you go put a movie on? I'll go get you something to drink."

No sooner than when Lorelai's foot had passed the threshold of the living room, the lights flipped on to a shout of "Surprise!"

 

-

 

Rory had made her appearance at the party, said hello to Miss Patty and had the life squeezed out of her by Babette. They'd even managed to get through the cake and quite a few of the presents- one of which was a massive weighted blanket and a long letter from Paris- before Rory retreated back to her room. 

With reverence, she pulled the paper package off of the shelf it sat on and laid it on her bed. Rory cut the twine wrapper and pulled it off before starting to deal with unfolding the paper wrapping. Inside was a cloth clamshell box, the words 'Les Miserables' in embossed gold lettering. 

She'd barely had time to start admiring the first book of the group before there was a knock at the door. Reluctantly, she replaced the book and shut the case before inviting whoever it was inside. 

"You okay?" Lorelai asked, slipping in and shutting the door. 

"Yeah, I'm just looking at the books that grandpa gave me," Rory nodded, lifting up the case to give Lorelai a place to sit. 

"Alright then," Lorelai nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking around the room. "You know, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Talk away," Rory said, standing and replacing the cloth box onto the shelf for the time being. It didn't look right there... She instead rested it on the dresser beneath before sitting back down to face her mother. 

"I'm gonna need you to get all of your stuff out of the room," Lorelai said casually.

"What do you mean 'all of my stuff'?" Rory asked, her brow furrowed. 

"All of it," Lorelai repeated, gesturing to the books on the shelf and the wardrobe across the room. "It all has to go."

"I've got nowhere to put it," Rory frowned, leaning back against her bed frame. "Why does it have to go anyway?"

"We need the space," Lorelai shrugged. "Me and Luke are thinking of redecorating."

"And you're starting with my room?" Rory's tone was obviously irritated. How exactly was she supposed to move all of her stuff out when she was barely home in the first place?

"No," Lorelai shook her head, "We're only doing your room."

"What am I supposed to do with all of my stuff?" Rory asked incredulously. "And what are you even doing with the room? You have an office at the Dragonfly and Luke has a whole apartment above the diner."

"Well, I was thinking that most of it could go to your grandparents' house, at least for a little while. Though we might want to keep the rocking chair in the corner. Luke figures that it'll be good for rocking the baby to sleep." 

A stun gun might have been less surprising than that last sentence. She wasn't upset, wasn't shocked, but... surprised was an accurate representation of how she felt. 

"You..." She breathed, her eyes stuck to her mother's face. 

"Me," Lorelai confirmed, her lips splitting into a grin. Rory, glad that she'd put the books out of harm's way, threw her arms around Lorelai's shoulders with a cry of excitement. They both couldn't help but burst out in a fit of happy giggles.

"That's why he's been doing everything for you!" Rory exclaimed, connecting the now obvious dots.

Lorelai groaned happily. "He's less of a husband and more of a butler nowadays, but God he's cute." 

"You're really having a baby? You took a test?" Rory asked, looking at her mother's lack of a bump. Sure, it wasn't immediate, but it was still... Wow. 

"I peed on the stick and everything. Went to the doctor's last week to make totally sure, and it looks like the bun's in there," Lorelai nodded, running her fingers over her abdomen. "And just so you know, we aren't taking your room from you. I just wanted to tell you now and I figured that that would be one way to do it, you know?" 

Rory waved her off and hugged her again. "If you need the room, I can get my stuff to grandma's-" 

"Oh, please," Lorelai cut her off. "The moment Luke found out, he was on the phone with Tom. He didn't even think of touching your room. There's plans to add a room upstairs for the kid before I get too big to want to walk up and down the stairs to the diner every day."

"Wow, Mom," Rory murmured, smiling. "I didn't even know you two were thinking about having kids. You never said anything."

"Well, the kid-making part typically happens when you aren't thinking too hard," Lorelai winked, nudging Rory's shoulder. "It happened on the Honeymoon. We weren't really planning on having kids this early- we hadn't even talked about it- but we're both happy. Really happy. Even if he is a little neurotic about the whole thing."

It felt significant that this happened so quickly. Of course having a kid together was significant, but just a year ago they'd been so irrevocably separated that this type of a turn toward commitment was almost unthinkable. 

Last year, for the first time in her life, Rory had gotten to see her wildest Parent Trap dreams realized, her mom and dad under the same roof. She had even heard them mention marriage once or twice. 

The difference that Rory saw in her mother between now and then? It was the difference between who you were meant to be with and who you wanted to be meant to be with. For Rory, it was the last thing she needed to convince herself to climb completely on board. Neither of her parents deserved to be in a relationship with someone who didn't make them as happy as they could possibly be. It might take Christopher a little longer to get to where he could be, but just the... delight that she saw in Lorelai's eyes was evidence enough that no one could make her happier than Luke Danes.

"Who else knows?" Rory asked, moving back so that she and her mother could sit facing each other on the bed. 

"No one but Luke. Well, and Sookie. But you're the first person that I told besides Luke, Sookie just figured it out on her own," Lorelai nodded, obviously trying to keep her voice down despite her bursting excitement. 

"How'd she do that?" Rory said, a bit disappointed in herself that she hadn't noticed all night. 

"You know how Sookie is when she gets excited about a new recipe? Yeah, well, she got this idea for a new caramelized-apple-pork-chop dish— delicious, by the way— and she wanted me to try a few different kinds of wine to make sure that they paired well," Lorelai trailed off, holding her hands up and shrugging. "I could have taken a sip, I guess, but this is Luke's first time involved in a pregnancy like this and I didn't want to freak him out. It was her first guess and I'd only found out for sure a few days before that, so I didn't have a good reason for not drinking."

"I'm so happy for you," Rory breathed, taking Lorelai's hand in hers and squeezing gently. "I mean, I got you to myself for almost twenty-four years, but I think I can share my best friend. If I have to."

Lorelai's eyes were welling with tears and Rory pulled her into another tight hug.

"You are such a good kid, Rory," she whispered, petting Rory's hair while they embraced. "Such a good kid. I got so lucky with you and I couldn't ever imagine getting so lucky again," she pulled back to wipe her eyes and stare at her older baby. Rory felt her eyes stinging too. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You made me grow up, you made me responsible, and you definitely made me a better person. Without you, I wouldn't have this life. I wouldn't have Luke. I wouldn't have this baby. I don't want you to ever feel like you're not a part of this," she gestured to herself and out toward the party where Luke was. 

"I love you, Mom," Rory said, wiping her eyes and sliding off the bed. "We've gotta get back to the party before we start really crying or someone comes looking for us. No one out there knows Lorelai Gilmore to miss out on people celebrating her, right?"

"Right," Lorelai smiled, standing and hugging Rory one last time before checking her face in the mirror and grabbing the door handle. "Ready?"

"Ready." 

 

 

_____

 

 

**June 17, Tuesday**

 

"Is there a reason that you don't have a smartphone?" Anya asked, her perfect eyebrows raised at Rory's little flip, plucking it off of the desk and twirling it around her fingers.

Rory rolled her eyes, turning her chair to look at her roommate. "We were all issued Blackberries when we started."

"Yeah, we were," she shrugged, dropping the phone back on the desk and walking to her own laptop. "But those are work phones. Your personal phone should be younger than your haircut, in my opinion." 

"Well, that opinion might be valid when you have the kind of money that would support that kind of turnover," she replied, focusing back in on her work. She'd done an on-the-street piece about first time voters, something that she had high hopes for getting published. Since her first published piece, she'd managed to have two more and hoped that this would be number four. 

Anya snorted and grabbed her purse, heading for the door. "I'm getting food. If you don't text me what you want, I'm bringing back pasta." 

The door closed behind her, leaving Rory alone with the whirr of the air conditioner and the laptop she was focused in on. She didn't much want pasta but once she had finished her first round of editing, she'd already forgotten that it was even Anya's night to buy. Reveling in the silence, she stood and stretched her stiff legs, pacing back and forth while analyzing her to-do list.

There was a whole process to this writing thing, at least Rory found that developing a process made it easier to commit herself to a schedule. If she took breaks between each of her edits, she'd have a fresh mind to catch all of her phrasing mistakes, formatting errors, and the odd typo. The only issue was that she didn't have anyone to talk to until Anya came back and despite the fact that she adored her phone she wasn't good about answering text messages, meaning Rory had no chance of finding her. She laid back on her bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. She had to do something else to distract her, to clear her mind. She could always just play music. As long as it's not too loud she shouldn't get any complaints from the neighboring rooms. Especially not since Riley wasn't on the same floor. She could take a long shower and play something with enough bass to wipe out thoughts of the youth vote. 

She picked up her CD book, flipping through the various mixes that Lane had been mailing her for the past few months. Rory knew exactly what she was looking for; her fingers plucked out a CD that featured a lot of songs from Metallica and she made her way to the bathroom, her stereo in her other hand. 'Master of Puppets' started playing and she stepped into the warm spray of water. If Anya still wasn't back when she got out, maybe she could call Lane. If she missed the window between when the wins went to sleep and when Lane herself passed out, Paris might be an option. Rory might get scolded for interrupting her studying time, but they hadn't really had a chance to talk since Doyle had managed to convince her to go on a vacation cruise. Being trapped at sea without any of her medical books had equal probability of being very good for Paris or very bad for Doyle. Rory chuckled at the idea of a stressed out Paris frightening the staff of a cruise ship. 

 By the time she'd left the shower, Rory felt refreshed. She let the end of 'Back in Black' by AC/DC finish while she got dressed, only cutting the music when she thought she heard her phone ringing in the other room. Emerging from the humid bathroom with a cloud of damp air following her, she crossed the room to pick up her flip phone. 

"Rory Gilmore," she answered, turning back to pick up her towel and laundry from the bathroom floor.

"Wow, Ace. I've got to give it to you, that sounds damn professional."

A smile spread across Rory's face. "Well, I am a professional reporter," she said, sandwiching the phone between her ear and her shoulder while she cleaned up, stuffing her clothes into the dirty laundry bag and wrapping her hair up into a towel. 

"Oh, I know you're a reporter. I've got your new Boston Globe piece right here," Logan said, rustling what sounded like a newspaper near the receiver. 

"None of it went over your head?" she teased, dropping into her desk chair and swiveling it back and forth.

"No one can make the redrawing of congressional district lines as accessible as you can," he responded. She'd missed his encouragingly cheerful tone. Hearing his voice made her feel more sure of herself.

"If only the Times felt the same way," Rory sighed dramatically, aware that she was making good headway in creating a name for herself. 

Logan laughed. "If the Times doesn't know who you are by now, they don't deserve you."

"Well, what about you?" Rory countered, having heard a few murmurs about the continuing Huntzberger empire back in California. "How's the whole challenging-your-father's-legacy thing going?"

"Surprisingly well. I contradicted him a few days ago in a meeting, told a few investors that 'while I respect my father's views on the things that have worked in the past, we need to be looking toward expansion in the future'. I've been called a real visionary," he chuckled. 

"You're intensely smart. I'm not surprised," Rory complimented.

"Intensely smart? Me? That's high praise coming from the biggest brain I've ever met." 

Rory's eyes rolled, though she felt that it was a good natured gesture of exasperation. "What'd you call to talk about?"

"Oh, yeah," Logan said, seemingly having forgotten that he was the one to call in the first place. "I heard that you're sending your resume out."

"How'd you hear that?" Rory asked.

"You know how the older generations talk," Logan said evasively.

"I can't see Mitchum and Shira bothering to talk about me," Rory challenged. 

"Well, no. But your grandmother happens to be in one of the same clubs as Colin's great aunt something-or-other. Either way, she mentioned it to him for some reason and then he relayed the information," Logan admitted. 

"Oh," Rory sighed, already having been sure that her grandmother was bragging to her friends. She just didn't think that the information would reach California. "Yeah. I haven't sent anything out yet, but I am working on boiling everything down. I want to have a job in place before January."

There was a pause of hesitance on Logan's end. "I could always help you out with that," he offered. 

The offer of the road more traveled. It wouldn't exactly be nepotism or sleeping her way to the top, but the offer couldn't be entirely based on merit. Even if she and Logan were apart for years, she would know that his affection hadn't completely faded. After all, she knew that hers hadn't. 

"I know that you think you can't take any offers that I give you, but this really is just another open door to you. I showed your pieces to one of the editors I'm in contact with and he said that he could really use some newer talent in San Francisco. It's not exactly overseas, but it's a stepping stone. And I can guarantee that he doesn't give a rats' ass about kissing up to me, so you'd be totally on your own-" 

"Logan," Rory interjected, her smile having seeped into her voice. 

"Yeah?" he responded, cautious.

"I appreciate the help. But I've really got it handled. I think I'm gonna want to stay on the East Coast for a while, be near home for a bit." She hoped that it didn't feel as dismissive as it felt. It was tempting to go to California, to actually visit him. She hadn't actually seen him in person in far too long. The longer it got, the harder it was going to be to come back from.

"Yeah, I figured," he sighed, not sounding nearly as depressed as she had been dreading. "If you feel like escaping the cold this winter though, I have a pretty nice guest room. The beach is pretty nice, especially compared to freezing back in Connecticut," he said, his tone conveying how he much missed her too.

Rory wanted accept and say that she'd spend the time there in California, that they would have time to catch up. She sometimes tried to what his life was like now: she pieced together the conversations that they'd had over the past few months and imagined the rest. The guy that she stole a boat with now spent his time sitting in an endless array of boring meetings. If Logan could manage to live like that, she wondered how someone like Finn would be doing. Then it hit her that accepting the offer wasn't even an option.

"I can't," she said, a grin spreading over her face. 

"Why not?"

"I haven't told you yet, have I? Mom's pregnant. She's due in November and the first time I'm gonna really have time to be home is the Christmas holiday," Rory explained, glad to have such a good excuse. It was easier than having to imagine the repercussions for spending a holiday alone with Logan instead of being at home with her family. 

"Congratulations, Rory. And tell your mom I said the same thing, alright?" He sounded genuinely happy. "Did she like the gift I sent to the wedding?"

"The flat screen?" Rory laughed. "Yeah, she loved it. I can assure you that's gotten a lot of use."

"Good. I'm glad." 

That hung in the air over them. She wanted to offer to come some other time, maybe on her next break from work. She wanted to admit that she had the urge to go to him and reconnect. She just knew that without a plan for what comes next, a visit would be a bad idea. At least for now. 

"I've gotta go, actually," Logan said, clearing his throat. "I just wanted to check in with you. If you feel like taking the San Francisco offer, send me a text. I'll set up an interview."

"Thanks, Logan," Rory said simply. There was no reason to reject the offer again, he knew where she stood.

"Bye, Ace."

"Bye."

Rory held the phone to her ear until the call ended, an apology stuck in her throat. She didn't know what she needed to say sorry for, but she knew that the uneasiness in her gut could be called guilt. She set the phone on her desk and turned to her computer.

She should finish editing.

Instead, Rory closed the laptop, stood up, and grabbed her portable CD player. She'd do it after she took a walk.

 

 

______

 

 

**August 7, Thursday.**

 

The acoustic version of a good song was playing when Jess got into Stars Hollow. He figured that he didn't really need to pass through the center of town to get to Lorelai's house, but with the new car he doubted that anyone would recognize that it was him driving. It would at least delay the pitchfork wielding mob by a bit. Plus, he wanted to check if Luke was around the diner.

Turns out, he wasn't. Jess still might have stopped in, said hello to Caesar and grabbed a bite, but Taylor was standing right out front in his bright red pinstripes. It wasn't worth it.

Jess turned the radio up when the next song came on, seemingly bothering a few people walking on the sidewalks when he did. He resisted the urge to crank up the volume even louder, keeping his hands wrapped around the steering wheel until he parked in front of the Gilmore house. Luke's truck wasn't here either. 

If anyone asked why he stayed in his parked car for a few minutes, he'd blame it on the radio suddenly starting to play some decent music, but that wasn't it. The house still intimidating, even knowing Rory wasn't inside. Lorelai didn't scare him, but even with their unspoken peace treaty he didn't feel as though she thought of him as some part of her extended family. Not that that bothered him, really... He just had to get over it. 

Jess turned off the engine of his little black Honda, climbing out and adjusting his jacket before walking up to the front door and knocking. He was glad to say that his heart wasn't racing.

The door was opened by a very obviously pregnant Lorelai. Even exhausted, she looked some level of pleased to see him. "Oh, thank god."

Maybe she was even happy to see him, though happy might be strong considering the tensed atmosphere that rested between them in their few one-on-one encounters.

"Yeah?" He responded, stepping inside and shutting the door behind himself. 

"Yeah. I need some help," she nodded, waving him to follow her into the kitchen. He followed dutifully, looking at the clutter that had accumulated. It looked like a lot of boxes. He came to stop next to the kitchen sink with Lorelai, not clear on what exactly he was supposed to help with. 

"God knows I love the Luke, but I might strangle him before this kid is even born," she started, gesturing to one of the cupboards next to the fridge. "I can not figure out how to open this drawer and it has all of my snacks in it." To demonstrate, she tugs a few times. There's a child lock barely visible just inside. 

"He's been baby proofing?" Jess asked, bending over to examine the lock. It looked familiar. 

"Yeah, you can call it that. I mean, they aren't gonna be able to walk for months and I keep telling him that. I almost killed him yesterday for putting a lock on the toilet," she sighed, lowering herself to sit in a chair at the kitchen table. Jess laughed quietly and took a moment to focus on the lock. No matter how they felt about each other on a day to day basis, they both knew that Luke was more important to both of them than bad history was. Dwelling on his personal issues with Lorelai would do nothing to pay his uncle back for what he did. It took Jess about ten seconds and the drawer slid open with a 'pop'. 

Lorelai let out a gasp of what sounded like astonishment. "How did you do that?'

"I just spent the week with my mom up in New York," he shrugged, handing her a packet of Oreos and shutting the drawer again. "Doula's getting close to walking, so they had Luke do all this stuff when he came up last time."

"Oh..." She nodded, offering him an Oreo in the meantime. "That makes sense, actually. It's about the same time he started to do all this stuff. Our coffee table has rubber corners right now."

"Where is Luke? I drove by the diner and I didn't see the truck," he said, twisting his Oreo open.

"Oh, well, he went to get some things from Doose's. Rory got some kind of bug so she's gonna fly in tomorrow morning and stay for a few days. I don't know if she's going to be up for the whole Birthday celebration thing, but Luke's already got your cake baked and iced back at the diner. He's excited that he's got you for your birthday," she said. 

The words hung in the air between them. Sure, he might not have known Luke all that well before moving into the diner, but he always got a birthday card. Usually it had $20 dollars. Sometimes he'd come have dinner with Jess and Liz and whatever boyfriend was the current boyfriend, bringing the card personally. The one time that they celebrated his birthday in Stars Hollow he was too wrapped up in his disappointment over the aftermath of his first kiss with Rory that he didn't have the energy to participate in anything Luke tried to suggest. 

"That sucks," he replied, looking around the kitchen. He didn't know what else to say about Rory coming back home. "You guys moved back into the house?"

"Oh, yeah," Lorelai nodded, gesturing upstairs. "That's almost done. Luke's gonna finish the flooring and the painting himself but the lights turn on and everything. The baby's room is almost as big as Rory's, really. Tom did a good job."

"Alright, well I'm gonna head over to the apartment. I need to take a shower and unpack my stuff. TJ 'fixed' mom's washer, so I didn't get to do any laundry while I was there," Jess nodded, feeling awkward. He hadn't planned on going back there so quickly, but there wasn't much for him and Lorelai to talk about by themselves.

"Luke might be sleeping over there with you tonight, actually. I'm gonna go to my parent's place in Hartford for the night so I can pick Rory up when the plane comes in."

"Okay," Jess nodded. "D'you need help with anything before I go?"

"Can you just leave the drawer open? Other than that, I've got Paul Anka to keep me company," She said, offering him a smile. The dog, probably hearing his name, trotted into the room and sat by Lorelai's chair. He nodded and opened the drawer again, pulling it all the way out before heading toward the door. 

"See you around, Lorelai."

"Happy Birthday, Jess."

 

-

 

**August 8, Friday.**

 

Jess and Luke spent the night watching a stack of movies that Lorelai sent with Luke to the diner apartment, or at least that's what they planned on telling Lorelai. In reality, without either of the Gilmore Girls to keep them in check, they fell asleep halfway through a 'classic' from the 60s that made next to no sense. 

The door to the apartment swinging open was enough to wake Jess up, his hand quickly coming up so that he could wipe the bit of drool from the corner of his mouth. 

"Well aren't you two just rays of sunshine," Lorelai teased, holding two plates of pancakes.

Luke opened his eyes at the sound of her voice, grunting quietly in protest. If Jess's neck was stiff from sleeping on the couch all night, he couldn't imagine how Luke felt. The groan that came out when his uncle forced himself to his feet was enough of an answer. Lazily, Luke padded over to wrap his arms around his wife, kissing her forehead. He murmured something like 'thanks for the food.' 

There was nothing really private about the way that they greeted each other, but it still felt far too intimate to watch. He averted his eyes when they kissed, standing and stretching his stiff limbs out. Another glance at Luke and Lorelai made him roll his eyes; Luke had a hand over Lorelai's baby bump, his thumb stroking back and forth while they talked in hushed voices. While he assumed that they were just innocently talking about something to do with their plans for later that day, he still wasn't ready to take that chance based on a glint in Lorelai's eye. 

"I'm gonna take a shower," he declared, walking toward the bed he'd left his towel on. It surprised him that Luke had kept his area so untouched; it even still had the same yellow and brown blanket folded at the end. The only real changes were the plastic light socket covers and the rubber corners on the beside table. 

"Alright, I'll put your pancakes in the fridge," Lorelai replied. Jess had assumed that the pancakes were for her and Luke.

"Thanks," he paused for a moment before continuing to gather clothes for the day, wondering if he should say anything else. Probably not. It was too hot outside for more than a t-shirt and jeans, so once he had gathered that he headed for the bathroom. 

"Oh! Hey, Jess?" Luke called.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Come over to the house for lunch, okay? I took the day off at the diner." 

Jess offered a smile and a nod before disappearing into the bathroom.

 

_

 

The Gilmore house was near chaos when Jess came around for lunch. He'd spent most of the morning just walking around the town, going to a few of the quiet places that he used to disappear to when the rest of the world was too much of a bother. Once he got to the house, he had to let himself in as the actual members of the household were distracted. Luke was digging through a closet and shouting about shoes. A muffled response came from Lorelai upstairs. 

"What's going on?" Jess asked, obviously surprising Luke. 

"When'd you get here?" He asked, turning back to the closet and kneeling down. 

"Just now. I knocked," Jess shrugged.

"Lorelai's gotta run to the inn. Something's going on with the plumbing and Michel is being too French on the phone to explain whatever's going on," he muttered, reaching his hand into the far back of the closet. He pulled out a little black shoe, obviously very happy to see it. Luke got onto his feet and jogged to the bottom of the stairs. "I found the shoe!"

"The left shoe?" Lorelai asked, rushing to the top of the stairs. 

"The left shoe with the little strappy thing," Luke nodded, holding up the shoe to show her. 

"You have no idea how much I love you right now," Lorelai grinned, descending the stairs with the other shoe already on her right foot. Luke looked like he might say something, but he spared Jess a look and thought better of it. Thankfully. Instead, he knelt down again and strapped the flat onto his wife's foot before standing and grabbing the car keys from the table with the house phone. 

"Alright, so, Jess. I'm sorry about lunch, but I did make you a sandwich," Luke explained, walking toward the door. "We'll be back soon- maybe an hour or two- we just need to make sure that nothing exploded. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, alright?" 

"Yeah. Sure," Jess nodded, waving them off. He could use the time to be productive anyway, seeing as he had a manuscript out in the car that he was meant to be reviewing. "It's really no problem. I'll be around all weekend. I'll just get some work done while you're gone." 

"Alright, alright. Just call me if you need anything," Luke said, opening the door for Lorelai, "See you later, Jess."

"See ya, Luke. Lorelai."

The door shut and left Jess in the quiet of the house, little black shoes littering the entry hall. He chuckled to himself and gathered them all into a small pile so that no one would trip, going to grab the manuscript from the car once he was done. He set himself up at the kitchen table, sandwich on one side and work on the other. He was about fifty pages deep before he realized that he'd been humming to himself for almost the entire time. No tune in particular, just something to fill the empty air. It was probably better that he hadn't been paying attention seeing as he was relatively tone deaf. He'd had that realization forced on him the one time he had been convinced to take the stage at a karaoke bar with a few friends. Yes, he was intoxicated at the time. He was internally cringing at the memory when the door opened behind him. His head whipped around, landing on the most disheveled version of Rory Gilmore that he had ever been privy too.

Rory's nose was pink and the rest of her face was a sickly pale color. Her long hair was an unbrushed tangle that was mostly covered by the duvet that she was dragging behind her like a cloak. She paused when she saw him sitting there, confusion taking her expression for a moment. 

"Hey," Jess greeted, watching her shuffle across the floor toward the fridge. 

"Hey," Rory croaked in return, cracking open the fridge and frowning at the contents. She shut the door and turned back around to Jess, the hood of her makeshift cloak falling down. "Where did everybody go?"

"Something was happening at the inn. Plumbing emergency. They said they'd be home in about an hour." Rory grumbled quietly and dropped herself down into the seat opposite Jess, staring off into space. She looked miserable, really. "Do you need something? I can run to Doose's if you want?" 

Rory turned to Jess and blinked, as though she hadn't imagined he'd offer something so simple. "It's fine," she shook her head, slouching back into her chair. "Luke said he was going to make soup earlier, but I can just order something." 

With that, she seemed to fade back into whatever half-coma she'd been in before. Jess stifled a chuckle.

"How about I order for you and you go back to bed?" Jess suggested, gesturing back to her room. 

"I've been sleeping all day. I have to get my work done at some point," Rory insists, shaking her head and pulling the blanket tighter around her body. "I just have to eat something first."

"Fine then. You go lay on the couch with the dog. I'll order some food and you watch something," he nodded, sliding a bookmark into the manuscript and sliding it toward the center of the table.  "You still keep the takeout menus in the same place, right?"

As he stood, it seemed like Rory might protest again. She was probably used to being independent by now, or maybe she felt off about letting Jess help her. His nerves started to buzz at the thought of her being aware of his inconveniently lingering feelings. Might she pity him? It'd been two years since their last kiss and they hadn't seen each other more than a handful of times in between then and now. She didn't speak, her mouth falling shut again to protect her raspy voice. She gathered her blanket and started to move toward the living room. 

"Thank you," she mumbled, retreating into the living room. 

It wasn't as though Jess didn't realize that his feelings were long past their shelf life. His friends told him as much whenever he'd make some excuse as to why he didn't really feel the need to date, that whatever he was waiting for wasn't going to happen unless he took a step to make it happen. Trying to appease them, he'd even asked out Olive a few weeks ago, resulting in a date that most likely ended any and all affection she had for him. He grimaced at the memory, instead focusing on flipping through the stack of takeout menus. The sticker coding system should help. 

All in all he wasn't able to find anything from the Chinese food menus nor was he willing to take a chance on Al's take on an Ethiopian stew, not even on Rory's behalf. He ended up calling the diner and asking Caesar to send over some of the chicken noodle he knew Luke had put on the menu a few months ago. Sure, the diner didn't technically deliver. But if he promised to do the after-closing clean up before going to bed, it'd end up being a time saver for Caesar to run over some food. 

Jess sat back at the table, staring down at his work and pursing his lips. It had suddenly gotten much harder to concentrate on what he was meant to be doing. He considered for a moment that he could leave and tell Rory the food was on the way. She was a grown woman and she could most definitely manage to take care of herself without Jess's help. Leaning the chair back to peek down the hall revealed a blanket lump that was in the middle of a coughing fit. In the background, President Merkin Muffley was asking Dmitri about the hydrogen bomb. Internally Jess groaned and shook his head. No, it wouldn't make sense to leave.

Or maybe it did make sense. He was sure that if Rory had any idea that his non-platonic feelings for her lingered, she might even be uncomfortable with him around. Sure she was single, but that didn't mean that she automatically would be ready or willing to be with him. She'd rejected him enough times to make that clear. 

_'Don't say "no" just to make me stop talking or make me go away. Only say "no" if you really don't want to be with me.'_

_'No!'_

The echo of a memory made his skin crawl with embarrassment. Why did he think for a moment that going to Rory in such a frantic way would remind her of any feelings she might have had? Well, the easy answer to that was that he wasn't thinking about her or what she needed in that moment. His mind was consumed by her, by the way that she looked and spoke and thought and her warmth... but it was a desperation for the safety, the calm that she brought to his self-destructive mind. He needed her in that moment and she was right not to reach out her hand. He hadn't had anything to offer her, not even his full self. 

Even when he had found the stability that came between them their first time around, when he was willing to offer everything to her... 

_"I thought everything was fixed."_

_"Everything but him."_

He clenched his jaw and ran his hands through his hair, an attempt to clear his mind of the troublesome thoughts. The frustration he was feeling wasn't directed toward Rory as she didn't owe him anything. It was directed at the unmotivated romance he felt in his quickened heartbeat. When they'd first met, his motivation was unbeatable. He spent ninety dollars to spend the afternoon with her, managing to have both one of the best and worst lunches he had ever had. He moved back to Stars Hollow for her. But now, after how much they had been through, Jess managed to get one thing through his thick head: It's over.

Without expecting anything in return for what he felt, the feelings he had were pointless and frustrating. They got in the way of having an easy friendship that he genuinely believed would be one of the best he'd ever have. Whether or not Rory and he ever ended up together, and it was decided that they wouldn't, the electricity he felt with her was addicting. She saw him honestly when no one else did. 

 

_

 

With the help of a cup of coffee, Jess managed to focus himself back on his work. He'd gotten another few pages marked up before the doorbell rang with Rory's soup. He shut the manuscript once again and walked away from the table, answering the door and finding Caesar there. 

"Hey, Jess," he nodded, handing over the bag. "Where's Luke?"

"He went to the Dragonfly. Something about pipes," Jess shrugged, holding out the cash that he owed. Caesar waved it away, saying that Luke wouldn't charge him if he knew. "It's a tip then," he said, knowing he should thank Caesar for bothering to come over himself. 

"Alright, thanks," Caesar said, pocketing the cash and turning to walk back to his car. "Happy birthday, Jess," he called over his shoulder. The door was shut and he walked back to the kitchen to unpack the soup. It looks like Caesar included rolls, probably ones that would go stale otherwise. It was still a nice gesture. He poured the soup into a bowl and walked back to the living room to serve Rory her food, only to find her propped up against the back of the couch and snoring gently. He set down the bowl carefully, sitting on the edge of the couch for a moment. The title screen of 'Dr. Strangelove" was playing the same audio in an endless loop, and so he turned off the television. 

Jess didn't allow himself time to admire Rory's peaceful face, instead shaking her arm gently. Her eyes parted and she yawned, not dissimilar to the way a cat would. 

"The food came. I can put it in the fridge if you want to keep sleeping," Jess offered, raising an eyebrow and directing her to look at the bowl of soup.

"No, I don't," Rory mumbled, yawning again. She forced herself up, the blanket pooling at her waist. She was wearing a large t-shirt with a picture of a large piece of cheese shouting 'go Packers'. Jess held in his snort of amusement, imagining Rory spending any time at all in a Wisconsin sports bar. "Thanks for the food," she nodded, sliding to sit on the edge of the couch and lean over the coffee table. Thankfully the soup seemed at least good enough.

"What kind of work do you have to do anyway?" Jess asks, leaning back and regarding her while she ate. He was impressed by her dedication to her work, considering how ill she looked. He could see himself doing the same in her position. 

"I've got to edit a piece of work. Apparently my take on the necessity of community outreach programs isn't inventive enough," she replied, shaking her head as though she didn't agree. Having read her work, he couldn't see her writing anything particularly contrived.

"Well, if you want any new eyes, editing is kind of my job," he offered, picking up the remote to turn on the television. "D'you wanna watch anything?" he asked, standing so that he could pick another DVD from the collection.

"No, just press play," Rory shrugged, sliding down to sit on the floor. Her pajama pants had Dr. Seuss rhymes on them. 

"You just watched this," Jess reminded her.

"Yes, but I fell asleep halfway through and you weren't watching. Just restart it," she ordered. Jess nodded and sat back down to press play. It wasn't a bad movie. 

Once Rory had finished her food, she joined Jess on the couch again, albeit on the other side. The watched the movie in silence. 

"I lent your book to my roommate," Rory said, turning to look at Jess. He raised his brow. 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah," she confirmed. "She's not that big of a reader, but she says that she likes it. She has my second copy right now, the one I bought on my own."

"I didn't know you bought a copy," Jess said.

They lapsed into quiet again. 

"I showed the piece you did for the Boston Globe to my friend, Chris. He said he showed it to his cousin, actually. The editor for the culture section for the Inquirer." While all of that was technically true, it could be argued that Jess was telling a lie of omission. Not only had it taken longer than a single conversation to convince Chris to show his cousin the piece, Jess had to use a few of the favors he had done for Chris in the past. He'd lost one of the most powerful cards he held by just mentioning the time that Chris ruined his couch. Rory deserved the promotion, regardless of whatever lingering feelings he had for her. 

"Yeah?" Rory asked, passive surprise evident on her face. "What'd he think of it? The Democratic Party's plan to recover from the recession isn't very culture-focused."

Jess couldn't stop his crooked smile from seeping into his tone. "You managed to connect the two pretty well. There were a handful of literary references in there and I think that they may have impressed him."

"He said that it impressed him?" Rory demanded in her raspy voice. Her eyes were far more alight than they had been moments before. 

"It's what Chris told me," Jess doesn't add on that it took a minute or so to interrogate for the information. Rory's smile was definitely reward enough, making his heart race a little faster while he phrased what he said next carefully. "I was actually planning on calling you about it when I got home." 

"Just to boost my ego?" She teased, nudging his leg with her elbow. 

"No, actually," Jess admitted, his tone much smoother than he felt internally. He turned his eyes back to the movie, not wanting to seem all that "They're apparently going to have an opening for a few months, sometime after January. One of their regular columnists is pregnant. I was told to ask if you would be interested in interviewing for a guest writing position."

The pregnant pause was nearly suffocating, eventually forcing Jess to turn his head back to Rory. He wasn't sure what exactly to expect, she'd said so many times that she didn't want to have a job that she hadn't earned herself. He knew that if her writing could simply get into the right hands, any smart person would want to snatch up her talent for themselves. It was her talent that had impressed Chris's cousin, not anything Jess had said. The look on Rory's face didn't say that she was angry or pleased, it just read as 'shocked'. 

"We haven't talked more than a handful of times. I've only met him once or twice- this really did come from your work, Rory." Jess needed her to know that.

"I didn't even think of Philadelphia," she breathed, her eyes snapping to meet his. "I've tailored my resumes, my portfolios, everything. I've prepared them to send to every paper in the North East and I missed Philadelphia. How did I miss Philadelphia?"

"I don't know, but Philadelphia hasn't missed you." Rory blinked at Jess's words, the gears in her head turning so fast that he might see smoke coming out of her ears. He couldn't imagine that illness was helping her processing speed. "Should I tell him you're interested?"

"Let me," she quickly stood, wavering for a moment before she strode toward her bedroom, the duvet left on the ground beside the couch. Jess's face split into a crooked grin and he stood to follow her, gathering her blanket from the floor. Before he could move toward the hall, she was back in the living room in all of her mis-matched and unkempt glory. "Do you have his contact information?"

"I think I've got his card in my wallet, actually. It's out in the car."

Rory nodded, turning on her heel and walking to her bedroom again. Jess quietly laughed to himself and draped her blanket over the couch before fishing his keys out of his pocket.

He sincerely doubted that there was anyone that could be unimpressed by her work ethic.  

 

 


	5. Chapter four: 2008 (pt.3)

**Sunday, 08.10.08**

 

The heat that settled over Connecticut in late Autumn was more like a light blanket compared to the humidity Rory had faced in Georgia or the oven that was the state of Arizona. It was familiar and pleasant, the air smelled like baked goods and cut grass. The plate of cookies sitting by her side were courtesy of Babette, who seemed incredibly concerned that she might starve in the few hours that her mother was working. 

Apparently, ever since Lorelai and Luke had announced little baby Squish they'd been getting an ungodly amount of dessert delivered to the house, mostly as an excuse to visit. After the first week or so, they'd started splitting the baked goods between the diner customers and the guests at the inn. Babette had probably meant the cookies for Lorelai, but she loved Rory just as much as her mother. It was sweet that they wanted to be so involved, but based on the town meeting Taylor held when Lorelai and Luke started dating, the whole family was cautious about releasing information before they were ready. They'd organized a tier system, actually.

Tier one, the obvious one, was just Luke and Lorelai. While officially, Rory was on tier two, she was the first person other than Luke to know any new information. The fact that they talked on the phone every other day since the pregnancy announcement helped keep Rory informed on the various changes to the female body that took place during gestation. It was one of the most effective methods of birth control that she had ever come into contact with, really. A 'mucus plug' was something she wasn't in any hurry to have to worry about. Tier two was the family. Apar from Rory, it included Emily and Richard on the Gilmore side. There was also Sookie, Jackson, Lane, and Jess on tier two, but they'd chosen to exclude Liz and TJ based on the fact that TJ had begun to be incredibly active on MySpace. Rory actually knew the exact amount of times that Doula had been to the park near their apartment in the last month- 11- because TJ insisted on posting a photoshoot's worth of grainy pictures every time. At least he prioritized those over the pictures of dinner every night... They'd been grouped on tier three with the rest of the town. 

Rory glanced away from her laptop screen, grabbing a cookie to munch on while she worked. This was the first time that she'd felt any better all week, though her nose was still a raw pink. She'd probably sneezed more in the last 72 hours than she had in her entire life. Or at least more than the epic cold of 1992. Lorelai had been a little hesitant to go to work, knowing that Rory would be alone at the house all day. Seeing as Luke offered to bring her lunch around noon, Rory had promised her mother that she would at least keep herself alive until then. She hadn't had a burger from Luke's in far too long and even with all the fantastic good she did have, that was near treasonous. Besides, she was too focused to really interact with anyone at the moment. She'd taken the time to see everyone off, Lorelai to the inn, Luke to the diner, and Jess to Philadelphia a little bit later than that. As soon as the front door shut that final time, she'd settled into the research process she found so comforting.

For each paper that she'd heard back from so far, which so far included The Chicago Tribune, The Detroit Free Press, and The Philadelphia Inquirer , she'd started a file on the local culture. She was mostly focused on Philly, trying to prepare herself for the phone interview scheduled in a few days. The Philly job was the only offer she'd gotten that actually included getting her work published. The other two papers had offered more permanent spots, but both were internships. She'd spend more time getting coffee and fixing copiers than she would contributing to the actual output of the paper. If she was going to get her job at the Times, she was going to have to make a name for herself in the world of print journalism. Internships wouldn't necessarily do that for her. 

Besides, Philly was starting to sound better and better to her. It was only about three and a half hours from Stars Hollow- blowing Detroit's nine hours and Chicago's thirteen out of the water- so she could definitely be home in case of an emergency. She loved New York. There was no question that she would have to live there some day, but that didn't mean that she needed to jump into the first job that would get her close to Manhattan. Philadelphia was cheaper too and if she was determined not to rely on her grandparents now, she would need to keep that in mind. 

Even apart from all of the more practical reasons, she could feel the idea of living in Philly growing on her. A new city, a new culture... even if it was for a few months. The city felt warmer to her than it had a few days ago. But she needn't get her hopes up before the interview. She had to prepare herself to get the job, she had to read up on what Philadelphia was.

An hour down that rabbit hole, Rory found herself reading about the Cave of Kelpius. Apparently, Philly had the first doomsday cult in America. That was... something. She'd just gotten to the part about the group disbanding when her phone buzzed and distracted her. A text from Jess:

 **[from Jess]:** _I won't be able to get time off for your visit, but I can still help you prep for the interview. Not that you'll need it by then._

Rory rolled her eyes playfully, tapping out her response:

 **[to Jess]:** _I haven't even gotten through the phone interview. I think planning a trip is one of those bridges I'll cross some time in the future?_

She had barely enough time to get into her research again before the phone buzzed again.

 **[from Jess]:** _Fair point._

A moment later.

 **[from Jess]:** _Pretty sure Rory Gilmore won't bow down to a phone interview, though._

Rory snorted and typed out a 'thank you', a slight smile on her face. It was hard not to notice the fact that Jess's belief in her felt more... substantial than most anyone else's. The abrasive honesty he gave her was born out of a faith in her ability that she wasn't always sure she had herself. To say that she was placed on a pedestal in Jess's mind didn't feel quite right, Rory just knew that the version of herself that he saw was the Rory Gilmore that she wanted to be. The woman that was strong, independent, smart, and tenacious enough to accomplish the goals that she set her mind to. For months she'd melted into this  _other_ , someone who was stuck in a thick fog of indecision, and Jess's voice had acted like a lighthouse to guide her back to herself. 

Now she owed him even more for this job opportunity. She debated elaborating on her thanks, her thumbs grazing over the keyboard of her Blackberry, but was interrupted by the arrival of her mother's Jeep. The way that she dropped her phone, an onlooker would have thought the keys had burned her thumbs. Rory felt herself getting a little hot under the collar, like she'd been caught doing something that she didn't want to be seen doing. She shook her head and picked up her phone again, shoving it into her pocket before jogging over to help her mother gather her things from the car.

 

 -

 

"Hey, Rory?"

"Hurry! You're gonna miss the explosion!" Rory called back, stretching her neck to look down the hall toward the kitchen. Lorelai had gone to fetch the Swiss Rolls from her snack cupboard so long ago that Rory had almost forgotten her mother was there watching with her. 

"Well, Kid, I'd be there to see it if this box didn't weigh a gazillion pounds. As it is, I've already seen Apollonia die," Lorelai responded with a grunt. Rory could only just tear her eyes away from watching Michael Corleone watching his wife shatter into a bunch of tiny pieces to see her mother shuffling down the hallway with a large cardboard box barely lofted above her visibly swollen belly. She paused the movie and jumped off the couch, the blanket falling by the wayside while she rushed to take the box. 

"I thought your weight limit was twenty pounds," Rory said, hefting the heavy box onto the coffee table next to the half-full bowl of Skittles-M&M-Reeses surprise. "According to the airport, this is about twenty-five past that."

"What Luke doesn't know won't hurt him," Lorelai responded, shuffling around Rory to lower herself to the edge of the couch. "What's in the box?"

Rory rolled her eyes and started to search for the remote to start the movie again. "I told you, it's a surprise. The only reason I brought it home is because it was too heavy to keep carrying around."

"Mmm..." Lorelai nodded, not looking deterred in the slightest. "What's in the box?"

"I'll give it to you when little Dogberry-Ursula is born," Rory shrugged. 

"Puck-Peaseblossom isn't going to be around for another fifteen weeks!" Lorelai insisted.

"I'm surprised you're still holding out on the gender," Rory said, attempting a tactful change of subject while she scanned the coffee table for the remote control. When Sookie was pregnant with Davy she had been on team know-the-baby's-gender, Rory had expected her to stay with the trend with this baby. Luke had wanted to at least abstain until they finished the nursery, worried about making gendered choices and planting a 'trauma bomb' for later on. He had read in one of his parenting books that he had to keep in mind the implications of gender-specific decorations in check, something he shared with Rory one night on a long and rambling phone call that had originally been about plans for Thanksgiving. 

Lorelai's face openly expressed the fondness she held for her husband, that she was loving every moment of Luke's near-anal-retentive planning. It was what she had missed the first time around. "Well, once he hangs the last baseball hat on the mobile, we get to open the envelope."

"And the keeper of the envelope is..."

"Sookie. Don't tell anyone though, it'd take Patty and Babette less time to get it out of her than it took Bud White to get info out of Louis," she sighed, finally relaxing back into the couch cushions. "Now, Rory. I think we both know that my Brad Pitt impression isn't perfect. I am, however, willing to do this 'What's in the box' routine for as long as it takes."

For a good few seconds, Rory considered the costs of dodging the question now and the benefits of waiting for Benvolio-Rosalie to be born. She knew that her mother would pepper the question into conversation for the entirety of her last trimester... 

"Books," Rory relented, dragging the books to the floor between her legs so that she could pull open the top. "I've been collecting things to read to him-her." A good seventy-five to eighty percent of the books were Dr. Seuss classics, the Berenstain Bears, Shel Silverstein, all of which were found at booksales across the West Coast. It was just the four books on top that were classics.

"Oliver Twist?" Lorelai questioned, reaching forward to pick up the paperback from the pile. 

"It's never too early to learn how good you have it," Rory shrugged, picking up the hardcover Wizard of Oz and turning it over in her hands. "I wanted to start their library. Just the essentials," she shrugged, returning the book back to its spot between Runny Babbit and the Davinci Code. "What do you think?"

Rory was surprised to hear the choked sound in Lorelai's voice once she responded. "I think it's really great. Really really great. This kid is lucky to have a sister like you to keep 'em smart."

"Mom..." 

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm fine, I promise. I've just been getting those mom-feelings, y'know?" She sniffled and wiped her eyes, hoping to drag herself out of the emotions she was being drowned in. "Pregnancy does it to you sometimes," Lorelai laughed. 

After a bear hug, Rory stood to bring the books back where they were in the first place. She leaned down and lifted the box about a foot off the ground with a grunt before dropping them back onto the carpet with a 'thud'. They were ridiculously heavy. 

"Maybe Luke will want to see the books?" Rory asked, staring down at the box. 

"Yeah. Definitely," Lorelai nodded, standing up and shuffling the long way around the coffee table. 

"Where are you going?" Rory asked, kneeling down to shove the box under the coffee table for the time being. 

"I forgot to get my snacks," Lorelai shrugged, trekking back to the kitchen. "Want anything?" 

"Have any Twinkies?"

"Definitely," Lorelai nodded, disappearing around the corner.

Rory managed to get the box mostly under the table before giving up and spotting the remote, folded into the blanket she'd dropped on the floor. As she was getting up to press play on the Godfather again, her phone buzzed. Her hand flew to her pocket, surprising herself with the over-excitement for a simple text from Jess. 'It's probably something about the interview', she decided. She pulled out the Blackberry and opened her messages... only to see Logan's name at the top of her inbox. She sank back into the couch behind her, pulling the blanket up from the floor and tucking her feet underneath her. The unexamined excitement was gone, replaced by hesitation. Her thumb hovered over her keyboard for a moment before deciding that she was being silly. She couldn't be intimidated by a  _text message_. They were friends. Friendly, at least.

 **[from Logan]:** _I just read your article for the Post. Really top notch stuff, Ace. We should celebrate next time you're in California._

The text was easy to read. The words were simple, happy, casual. Maybe that's why Rory read the message so many times. Or maybe it was because seeing him call her 'Ace' again made something in her chest stir. A painful pang of longing or regret that seemed to find her when she was happy just to remind her of what she lost; a person that would love her no matter how many stupid decisions she made, even if one of those decisions was _stealing a boat_. What hurt more was that he was making it clear that the door was still open for her, first with the Christmas invitation and now again. Rory imagined that this was how Sisyphus felt, pushing the rock up the hill. The only difference between her and the Greek tragedy was that if she stopped pushing her rock, if she stopped demanding to be completely independent, she would have no consequences. She could accept Logan's help and be comfortable in the fact that she just took a shortcut to where he was already going to end up... But the idea of being another Shira Huntzberger was enough to right that train of thought. She couldn't imagine being seen as an accessory of her husband's career. The thought made her stomach turn.

But that being said, she still had a text message to respond to. 

 **[to Logan]** :  _Definitely._

What's the worst that could happen? 

Rory slid her phone into her pocket, instead holding the remote when her mother came back with food. "Sorry, Luke moved the Twinkies to make room for more Ho Hos," Lorelai smiled, setting the food down.

"It's alright. Ready to keep going?" Rory asked, grabbing a treat from the plate. 

"Yeah, but can you rewind back a little bit? I want to see what I missed."

"You said you've already seen Apollonia die!" Rory protested.

"And I want to see it again," Lorelai declared, taking the remote.

 

 

_______

 

 

 **Monday, 08.11.08**  

 

"Paper piles. Paper piles everywhere!" 

Jess glanced up from his desk, an eyebrow raised. Chris was feinting shock at the state of Jess's area, as though he wasn't there when the papers had stacked up in the first place. He'd gotten into the city at around four, not even bothering to go home before driving to Truncheon. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't have been able to sleep if he didn't finish what he was working on despite knowing full well that he had another two days until his deadline. So many years of suffering the punishments of procrastination had provided Jess with the motivation to get things done when he got them in the first place. Especially in a job that he loved.

"I'll clean up before I leave," Jess shrugged, returning his eyes back to the manuscript. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the final climax of the story was putting him off. There must be some sort of punch being pulled... 

Chris peeled himself off the door frame and cross the room, passing his own desk to lean against the edge of Jess's. "So, how was your birthday?"

"It was fine," Jess shrugged, setting down his pen and slouching back in his seat. It might be better to take a break anyway, not that he had a choice. Chris was incredibly persistent. "Ate a cake, watched a movie, saw some friends, saw some family."

"Not a bad way to spend your time," Chris nodded, sitting in the empty space on the edge of his desk. "Did you tell Lorelai about the Inquirer interview?"

"Yeah, I did. She was excited about it." Jess's tone was cooler than the question called for, not feeling the need to expand any further. That didn't seem to matter as Chris felt differently.

"You called in quite a few of your boons just to get her article into the right hands."

Jess avoided his eyes, instead leaning back over his desk to pretend to scan a page. He wasn't going to get any work done under these conditions, but seeming unaffected was the best course of action. "She's an old friend. She helped me once and I'm just returning the favor," Jess spared his friend a pointed smile that read 'do not press the issue'.

"Does she know she's gonna have to come to Philly for the job? I can't see you two hanging out all the time," Chris pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, she knows," Jess clipped. "I already told her I'd help her find a place to stay if the interview goes well."

Here is where Jess expected Chris, ever the joke-teller, to come up with some quip about oil and water or maybe the classic playing with fire gag that always was  _so funny_. Instead, he was quiet. When he actually did speak, he didn't sound anything but concerned.

"Why do you put so much effort into trying to appease her? She's just Luke's wife." 

Jess pursed his lips and shrugged. "Family is family."

Through no attempt at deceiving his friends, Jess had managed to land himself in an unlucky situation. Rory published under her full name, Lorelai Gilmore. When Jess started his crusade to get Rory an interview with the Inquirer he'd only said that he needed Chris to send a friend's article to his cousin, he hadn't actually used Rory's name. Chris, having heard Jess mention his uncle's fiance a few times throughout the years (namely how she disliked him), assumed that the Lorelai Gilmore he was trying to help was the Lorelai Gilmore that was marrying his uncle. Instead of explaining that Jess was trying to help the girl from their open house, knowing that fielding those questions would be opening a lot of newly healed wounds, he just went with it. It was dishonest to let Chris keep thinking that he was putting all this effort in to better his relationship with his aunt-in-law, but the alternative being a lot of uncomfortable accusations of lingering feelings made him care a little bit less. 

"I hope it all works out," Chris sighed, patting Jess's shoulder. "Don't stay too late, alright? I just came in to get something I forgot. Make sure you lock up behind yourself," he reminded, crossing to get to his own desk and shuffle through the drawers. 

"Of course," Jess nodded, waving to his friend as he headed toward the door. 

"Have a good night, Jess. Alright? Don't stay too late."

"Goodbye, Chris," He responded with a wry smile.

  

 

\-----

 

 

**Tuesday, 9.23.08**

 

In one hand was her laptop bag, notepads sticking out of the side pocket in a precarious fashion, the other held a Santa like sack of laundry slung over her shoulder. Across her torso was a duffel bag that was probably permanently bending her spine, her purse slung across the other way. Rory had faced a lot in her life, but her most intimidating adversary thus far might be the staircase to Paris's apartment. 

Rory had to be in Mississippi by Tuesday. On Thursday, the first official presidential debate was going to be televised. Had she stayed with the group that was currently in New Hampshire, she would be getting ready to get on a bus going all the way to the magnolia state. Instead, she took the opportunity to visit her ex roommate, Paris, while she still could. Paris seemed to have a very limited window of time that she was willing to share with anyone not related to Harvard Medical School. 

It was understandable that her schedule would be a lot more strict then it had been even at Yale. Rory understood that this was the big leagues in Paris is mind, this was the school that her family legacy was born from. All of her Chilton planning and her Yale accomplishments wouldn't pale in comparison, but would most definitely be outshone by her intense need to be the best in her class. There wasn't a doubt in Rory's mind that Harvard had gained a remarkably adept student, though sometimes she did wonder about Paris's bedside manner.

Either way, for the first time in over seven months, Rory had been explicitly invited to see Paris over the weekend. Seeing as she had a tight deadline for when she had to be in Mississippi and Paris Had classes to attend, she would really only be staying Saturday night into Sunday morning. They had plans to check out a few historical spot, but Rory was content relaxing in Paris and Doyle's apartment until she had to leave for her plane. If she never had to walk up this flight of stairs again, she might be able to die happy. Why on God's green earth Paris had chosen to live on a fourth floor walk up was beyond anything Rory could comprehend.

As she hit the third and final landing, Rory was cursing herself for not taking advantage of the gyms in all of the hotels she had stayed in. Sometimes her roommate and a few other reporters her age would go down together, like it was a fun group activity. She always said something along the lines of 'catch ya later'. 

Later head definitely caught her, she thought as she dropped her bag of laundry by the door. She'd barely had to knock on the door before it flew open to reveal-

"Doyle?"

It was Doyle. It was Doyle with a fake blonde mustache and wig, thick-framed lens-less glasses, a tweed jacket, and what looked like a raisin superglued to his forehead. 

"Hey, Rory! C'mon in! Paris is just looking for something in her books in the other room, I'll go get her." He leaned over and grabbed her bag of clothes, hauling it inside the door with a grunt, only to leave it next to the full human skeleton standing next to the coat rack. Rory opened her mouth to ask, but a cursory look around the room found that he was not along. No, there were no other skeletons around. But from her stance by the door, Rory could see at least six more.

"Go ahead and sit on the couch, make yourself at home. Do you want some lemonade?" Doyle asked, pointing toward the kitchen behind him. Rory shrugged, unloading her bags onto the ground next to her laundry before sliding out of her shoes and walking to the couch.

Rory shrugged, waving him off, "No, I'm alright for now. But what's up with the-"

"Ha!" 

The shout came from the hallway, soon followed by pounding footsteps and absolute nonsense. "Seals lick transparent postcards, _then_ tile country homes!" Paris declared, stopping in the entrance to the living room and holding a notecard toward her boyfriend victoriously. 

"I hope they get paid well for it," Rory murmured, not sure that Paris had even realized that she was present. 

"I kept forgetting trapezium," Paris continued, handing Doyle the note card. "I knew there were eight!"

"That's why the sentence wasn't working. See, I was right to have faith in your mnemonic devices," Doyle grinned, handing the card back and turning back to Rory while Paris turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall again. "We've been studying for a test she has on Wednesday."

"Does it involve a costume change?" Rory asked, gesturing to his outfit. 

"What? Oh, no, this is based on a theory Paris has," Doyle explained, sitting in the armchair across the coffee table from Rory's seat. "There was this study done that showed that if you chew a certain type of gum while you study and then you chew the same type of gum when you take an exam, it helps you to remember what you studied. Some association between the information and the taste is supposed to form. So, Paris thought that because human beings are sight-based creatures, she could transfer the same theory onto visual stimuli."

"Ahh..." Rory said, watching Doyle peel off the Magnum-esque mustache and set it on the table next to that day's Boston Globe. "So who are you supposed to be?" 

"Her Biomedical Anatomy professor," Doyle said, dropping the wig and glasses next to the mustache. They both turned back to the door when Paris returned with a tightly stuffed backpack. "Am I all packed?"

"Packed?" Rory echoed, watching Doyle move to collect the backpack.

"Doyle's going to stay with a friend for the weekend," Paris explained, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

"Paris and I thought that it might be easier for you two to catch up if you didn't have to use code words that go over my head," Doyle nodded, returning the kiss. "I'll be back tomorrow night." The couple moved toward the door, speaking in hushed tones before laughter bubbled up and they said goodbye again. The door shuts behind Doyle.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Rory asked, confused as to the need for secrecy that forced Doyle out the door. She thought his birthday was some time in March, she couldn't imagine it was a surprise party.

"No, I thought you might like it if you didn't have to worry about him overhearing us talk," Paris responded, walking toward the kitchen. "Do you want some lemonade?"

"Sure," Rory stood and followed Paris around the corner, leaning against a counter while she watched Paris fish two cups out of the cupboard. "I don't have anything to talk about that Doyle can't hear." 

"I thought you were talking to Logan again," Paris said, her tone holding what Rory felt was an overabundance of concern.

"I am talking to Logan again. We're still friends." That caught a look from Paris. "Friendly, then. We're friendly. We're always going to be friendly." 

Paris didn't speak for the time that it took her to pull out the lemonade and pour both herself and Rory a drink. "Aren't you getting friendly with Jess?"

Rory rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. "That is not the same kind of friendly, Paris." 

"What kind of friendly is it, then? A Joey-Chandler type of friendly or a Chandler-Monica type of friendly?" 

"This is the type of interrogation I'd expect from someone in middle school," Rory complained, walking back to the living room.

"And that's the type of evasion that I'd expect from someone in middle school," Paris retorted, trailing closely behind. 

"It's a non-issue, alright? The two types of friendly aren't in conflict and neither one is an issue," Rory assured her friend, plopping back onto the couch next to her. "I'm talking to Logan maybe once a week. He tells me about his job, I tell him about the campaign. Jess and I... Well, we mostly talk about books. Family stuff. I'm keeping him updated on my progress with the Inquirer."

"He got you that interview, didn't he?" Paris asked, her tone too completely innocent to be genuinely curious.

"Yes, he did," Rory said coolly. 

"That seems like it might be a little more than just friendly type behavior." 

"Well, it is a friendly-type behavior. I'd do it for you and you don't think that's anything more than friendly, do you?" Rory responded, a heat seeping into her voice that made it clear the topic was closed.

"Fine, fine. Then it's just friendly," Paris shrugged, curling into the other end of the sofa. "How did your phone interview go?" 

"It went well. I already have a second planned and then if that goes well there'll probably be a third and then an in-person interview after the election," Rory said, grateful for the switch in topic. 

"That seems like a lot for a temporary position."

"It is a lot," Rory confirmed. "They say that they want to take the opportunity of a temporary opening to appeal to a different audience. A younger audience, specifically. They're looking at a lot of recent college grads for this, so there's a hell of a competition. They're mostly looking at locals and New Yorkers, so Jess sending in my work was a stroke of luck."

"Maybe you should send him a fruit basket," Paris suggested.

For a moment, Rory considered whether or not she was serious. "Maybe I will," She shrugged, finishing her glass and setting it down on one of the coasters that Paris had painted.

"Are you  _sure_ you don't want to talk about it?" 

Though the insistence was irritating, it was nice that Paris wanted to help Rory sort through the confusing details of her love life. "I'm definitely sure," Rory nodded, pulling the elastic out of her hair and letting it feather out onto her shoulders. 

"Fine. Then why don't you tell me about the actual job while we do the laundry," Paris suggested, pointing across the room at the bag she'd brought along. 

"Oh, I was just gonna do that on my own. Figured I'd do it when you had to study or shower or something," Rory said. Paris waved her hand and placed her glass on a coaster with a fairly well painted sunflower design before standing.

"Doyle and I are trying to be solidly productive between 8 am and 8 pm, it's how I've gotten so much done since we moved in here," Paris explained, gesturing around the room.

"How long has it been since you moved in?" Rory asked, moving toward the door after Paris.

"We moved two weeks ago. Almost two weeks ago, anyway," she nodded, picking her keys off the hook by the door. "So, do you think you'll get the Inquirer job?"

"I think I have a good shot at it. The phone interview went really well, I was told that I sounded charming and professional. Though, that was coming from my tipsy roommate listening in through the bathroom door," Rory chuckled, sliding her feet into her sneakers before slinging her sack over her shoulder. 

"You've got to be willing to live in Philadelphia for, don't you?" Paris asked, opening the door for Rory to shamble for.

"Yeah, I do. But I think that living in a city that isn't New York might be nice. It'll be an experience I've never had before, definitely nothing to shy away from," Rory responded. "Where's the laundry room for this floor?" She asked, peering down the relatively short hallway. 

"Oh, the laundry room for the building is in the basement," Paris said, shutting and locking the door to the apartment behind them.

 

 

\-----

 

 

**Friday, 10.14.08**

 

“…The ancient purity of marble pillars; arms hoisting polished promises, shimmering ideals and feet planted firmly on the sturdy foundation crafted from the bones of my father, the blood of my sisters, the tears of my mother…”

The room was dim and the desks were pushed to the walls again, the last steps of the wooden staircase providing a makeshift stage for each of the month’s featured poets. Jess was sat near the back of the group on a small wooden stool, too focused on the fact that everything seemed to be going well to actually appreciate how well everything was going. Half the office had managed to get sick, leaving the healthy half to contact all of the authors and Jess to organize their monthly poetry showcase right down to the snacks. Speaking of snacks, he could see that they were nearly out of the 7 layer dip that Tim had brought. Not something he expected.

Jess pushed his fringe back from his face, trying to focus back in on what Nadia was saying for a good few seconds before realizing she had relinquished the stage to Marcus. Shit. Well, he heard part of it at least. He’d have to play back the tape if he wanted to talk to her about what she said. She was one of the ones that he had the most faith in, she always had her shit together. It was the thing he appreciated most about her, not that there weren’t other things to appreciate. In addition to being anti-establishment, she was one of the smaller subsection poets calling for revolution that also didn’t think they were poised to be the next Nelson Mandela. All of that just meant that she was fun to talk to, funny too. One of the only poets that was enjoyable both personally and professionally, at least in Jess's opinion.

Marcus was about halfway through his poem when Jess his personal phone started to buzz. Shit. He couldn’t very well check the caller ID without bothering the people actually focusing around him, so he instead stood and started to wade through the crowd packed around the staircase.

Once he’d finally broken from the crowd, Jess speedwalked to the exit. He cursed quietly when the door opened, knowing that the light jacket he was wearing wasn’t going to shield him from the mid-October nighttime chill. Even better, once he stepped out onto the landing he noticed that it was spitting rain, just enough to be annoying. And he knew damn well that when he finally made it back inside that the stool he’d spent all night saving for himself was going to be occupied. Using one hand to stop the door from swinging shut too loudly, Jess used the other to fish his phone out from his pocket.

“Hello?” He answered, unsure if he’d caught the caller before they’d been sent to voicemail.

“I got it!”

Jess winced at the volume, pulling the receiver away from his ear for a moment. “Rory, hey! Sorry, I didn’t hear that last part, my eardrums exploded. What did you get?” Jess said, looking down at the sidewalk at the end of the metal staircase and wondering whether it would be worth it to descent and find shelter under the awning of the bakery below. He decided against it.

“Sorry, sorry! I just- Jess, I got it. I got the in person interview!” Rory exclaimed, a little out of breath. He supposed that that was just from already having called everyone else in her phone book to share the exciting news.

“Really? That’s awesome! When is it?” He asked, leaning against the rain-speckled railing behind him and folding his jacket a little tighter around his body. No, it didn’t actually help with the rain.

“We still have to set that part up, Rita just called me and let me know that she wanted to tell me when the interview was over, but she had to talk to someone- long story short, it’ll probably be in late November, early December. She said she wanted to give me time to finish the work I was doing on the campaign so that I could really focus on the piece they want me to write for the interview,” Rory said, obviously ecstatic.

“That’s great, Rory.” Jess said, his eyes aimlessly watching the cars that passed under the flickering yellow streetlight. “What do they want you to write?”

Rory whistled. “Something investigative. Rita said that she wanted something representative of what I wanted to do with the position, y'know? A piece that fits the cultural nature of the position while also working with my style of writing. The way she phrased it was that this position is my ‘chance to make my name earlier than anyone else in my graduating class’.”

“So, no pressure,” Jess chuckled, trying to fix what the breeze was trying to do to his hair.

“No, definitely no pressure,” Rory laughed along. Jess could picture the look on her face, how she eyebrows animated and her cheeks turned pink when she was passionate about what she was talking about. When she spoke up again, she sounded marginally less thrilled. “They told me after the first phone interview that there was probably going to be a third phone interview before they made their decision on the in-person meetings. The pool was apparently pretty massive, so they didn’t think that just two rounds of cuts would do it.”

Damn. From what he heard the pool really was competitive, he’d even started to feel a bit of worry for Rory’s sake. “Sounds like you beat out the best of them, Egon.”

“But what if I didn’t beat them?”

“What does that mean?” Jess asked, his brow wrinkled.

“What if I didn’t beat them? What if I just didn’t suck?” She said, as though that explained her worries.

“Rory, I’m gonna need you to dumb it down for me; what is bad about getting the in-person interview?”

Rory let out a huff of air before elaborating. “What if the only reason they pushed me through is because they’re so stringent that no one could keep up? What if they needed to meet with ten people out of a hundred and they’d already cut ninety? What if I would have been ninety-one?”

The absurdity of what she’d just said made Jess press his phone against his chest so that his snort was muffled. If she really was worried, he didn’t imagine that would help.

“Rory,” he said plainly, “If their rules are really all that strict, they aren’t pushing through one of the Griswolds just to meet a quota. All the people that applied were probably college grads with at least a little experience. Even if half of them were Kirk, you still beat out a pretty competitive crowd.” He was met with a pretty loud silence. “I’ve read all your published pieces, so trust me: they loved you. You’re on the fast track, Rory.”

“You think so?” She asked, clearly uncertain as to whether or not she wanted to let herself revel in the accomplishment that this was.

Jess found himself nodding. “Yeah. You beat out a hundred other guys, there’s no way you’d be around if you didn’t. You probably heard all this from your mom and Luke, but you have something to be proud of. You kicked some serious ass.”

“I haven’t actually called them yet,” Rory said, the caution in her voice having dissipated. She sounded calmer. Warmer.

That gave Jess some pause, not sure how to build off of that. “Are you two fighting or something?”

“No, I just… I mean, you helped me get the first interview. I figured you’d want to know that I got it-”

“I’m definitely glad you called,” Jess interjected, not wanting her to second guess herself. “I mean, they’re probably asleep by now. I haven’t been able to get a hold of either of them after eight for the last month or so.”

“Yeah, mom’s barely able to make it that late nowadays. Apparently she feels like a Babushka doll.”

“That’s one of those Russian dolls with the little dolls inside?” Jess asked.

“I thought it was fitting,” Rory confirmed. “I was gonna call them in the morning, I figured you’d still be awake though. I’m not interrupting anything, am I? I don’t need to keep you if you’re busy.”

“No, no, I’m doing alright. Nothing is pressing,” he shrugged, glancing at the door for a moment. He probably should go back in soon. “So… I mean, I know you. You’ve got to have some ideas for the article already, right? Anything good?”

“I have a few,” Rory said. “I’m trying to focus on the more popular books for now, I figure it’s a good way to gauge what the youth is interested in.”

“You’re probably right about the youth, Grandma,” Jess teased. He opened his mouth to suggest something when the door opened behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, only to see Matthew peeking out at him.

“Is everything alright?” Matthew mouthed, pointing at Jess’s phone. He nodded and held up his hand, trying to listen to what Rory was saying.

“-so I’m thinking more of a youth empowerment-revolutionary overtone, that way I can have a more cohesive moral at the end.”

“That sounds good. I’m excited to read it,” he smiled, turning slightly away so that Matthew couldn’t see his face.

“Is it alright if I send you a draft when I finish? I think an outside opinion might be a good idea,” Rory asked.

“Of course, yeah. I’ll help wherever you want me. No charge,” he joked. “And, hey. Keep me updated about when you’re going to be in town, alright?”

“Sure, I can do that. We could grab lunch or something?”

“Sounds great. And worst comes to worst and you can’t find a place to stay on short notice, I have a pretty uncomfortable couch that’s up for grabs,” Jess offered, regretting almost immediately. No, he didn’t not want Rory around, he just didn’t want to seem like he thought some sort of door was open between them. It was made painfully clear that the door was slammed shut last time she was in town.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Rory responded pleasantly.

“Do,” Jess nodded, a relieved breath escaping to let his shoulders sag. “I’ve actually got to go now, sorry. The pressing stuff started.”

“Don’t let me keep you. I’ll text you if anything else comes up,” Rory said.

“Alright! Sounds good. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Bye, Jess.”

“Bye.” He hung up and turned back to the door, a little surprised to see Matt still standing there. He was just watching, an odd expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. We’re just gonna start finishing up,” Matt said, stepping back so that Jess could step past him and into the building. “I wanted to make sure the raccoons didn’t get you.”

“You didn’t get that lucky,” Jess quipped.

“I’m just gonna have to settle for second most handsome in the office, then,” he sighed, the dejection sounding almost real.

“I don’t know about that, Mark’s been working out,” Jess said, clapping Matt on the shoulder and walking back toward the reading.

“Mark? Seriously?”

 

 

\----–

 

 

**Monday, 11.10.2008**

 

A plate of fries slid across the counter to come into gentle contact with the side of Rory’s copy of Barnaby Rudge. She barely looked up, instead switching to one-handed typing while she snagged a few fries from the plate.

“Thanks Caesar,” she murmurs, re-reading what she’d just written. _'It is natural to defer to the judgement of those with personal experience, especially considering that that is exactly what we as human beings are taught for the first twenty-or-so years of our lives. However, the difference between the-’._  She frowned and deleted the beginning of the last sentence. ' _In spite of this urge-_ ’. No, not it. ' _Though it seems_ -’.“

"Son of a bitch,” Rory grumbled, slouching on her stool and munching on fries while she considered the phrasing of what she wanted to say. “Hey, Sookie, can you take a look at this for me?” she asked, turning the laptop to face the table by the window.

“Sure, Cupcake. Just let me finish this last nail,” Sookie responded, trying to move so that she could find a better angle on Lorelai’s pinkie nail. Her mother was being 'pampered’ at the moment, sitting in a special chair with her feet up on one of the other diner chairs. Her eyes were closed and her headphones were blaring AC/DC, the hand that Sookie had already painted resting atop her bump. Rory tried another way of phrasing what she was saying, again unsuccessful, before Sookie managed to get away.

“What’s a good substitute for 'however’? I keep looking for something better, but that’s all I come up with,” Rory explained, highlighting the lead-in sentence.

“Would 'despite’ work? Or maybe 'yet’?” Sookie suggested, scanning over what Rory had written.

“Almost,” Rory murmured, drilling her nails against the notepad next to her. “What do you think of 'nonetheless’? Is it too much?”

Before either of them could consider more alternatives, they were distracted by sharp intake of breath from their left. Rory and Sookie turned to see Lorelai, her chin raised to the sky and her hands splayed out and tense.

“Six minutes, forty-seven seconds,” Rory announced, snatching her stopwatch up off the notepad and stopping it. Luke, having previously been banished to the kitchen area, stepped out cautiously.

“How long?” He asked, untying his apron.

“Six minutes, forty-seven seconds,” Rory repeated. “You’ve got a little bit to go.” Luke made a face, glancing over at Lorelai before returning back to his area. He’d bothered Lorelai about leaving for the hospital one too many times, resulting in him being imprisoned behind the counter. It was his near-murder of Taylor that pushed him into the back room. If he had his way, they’d have gone when Lorelai’s water broke, but being as Lorelai had already been through the process once before, she was insistent that they not go too early.

The reason for Lorelai’s closed eyes was… well, manifold. Not only was she trying to distract herself from the waves of intense pain, but for the last hour or so there had been not-so-subtle people walking by the window for updates on the situation. The diner was open for those brave enough to deal with Luke when he was this stressed, but that didn’t seem to include more than a handful of Stars Hollow citizens. Those brave few were sitting on the opposite end of the diner and talking quietly amongst themselves. Those brave few included Kirk, who was being constantly texted. Rory had a theory that he was a Patty-Babette plant.

Back to what she was writing.

 _’…years of out lives. Nonetheless…_ ’ no, ' _Nevertheless, the flexibility and innovation that comes with youth has formed the backbone of revolutions throughout all of history.’_

Pretty good for a first draft. There was an avenue toward including her experience with the Obama campaign, mentioning that his targeting of young voters had lead to the success of his bid for office… no, best to keep this as a-political as possible. She was going for inspiration, not a history lesson. Instead, she slid into a literary example and lost herself in the smooth flow of thoughts as they spilled out of her and across the keyboard. She didn’t look up again until Lorelai swore and broke her concentration.

“Son of a bitch,” Lorelai said, dragging her hands over her face.

“Six minutes, twenty seven seconds,” Rory said, glancing at the kitchen to see if Luke would bother poking his head out. She felt a little off just calling out the times like it was nothing but running laps, but her mother had insisted that she needed everyone to go about their business. Any extra stress would be too much for her to deal with. Either way, the pain on Lorelai’s face had wiped whatever Rory was prepared to write next from her mind.

For the first time in maybe half an hour, Lorelai opened her eyes. She had her Wonder Woman expression, the look that said she was ready to kick someone’s ass with no remorse.

“Time to go,” she finally said, the contraction finally having receded. Luke appeared like he’d been summoned, his apron already in hand. He handed off the apron to Caesar and swung his arm down to pick up Lorelai’s hospital bag in one smooth motion.

“Alright, come on, let’s go,” Luke said, kneeling down next to Sookie’s chair so that he could grab Lorelai’s slippers. Gently, he slipped them onto her feet before standing and taking her hand. Lorelai stood up with a grunt, her free hand holding her back. Rory’s attention was ensnared of the fluidity of their movements, forgetting for a moment that she was meant to gather her things and scramble.

“Do you want me to go pull the truck up?” She asked, slinging her laptop bag over her shoulder and shuffling out after her mother, Luke, and Sookie.

“No, we’re not taking the truck,” Luke said, his eyes on Lorelai. He kissed his wife’s knuckles before releasing her hand and jogging down the block toward the shiny grey minivan that stood alone on the street.

“He rented a minivan?” Rory asked quietly, exchanging a look with Sookie.

“He bought a minivan,” Lorelai responded, more focused on avoiding puddles than whatever Luke was doing with the bag.

“What happened to the truck? How did I not hear about this?” Rory asked, trying to suppress laughter.

“The truck is fine. It’s just not his family car,” Lorelai explained, stepping over a short snowbank to join Luke by the passenger’s seat.

“I didn’t realize we were members of the Partridge family is all,” Rory teased, sliding open the back door for herself and Sookie.

“If it weren’t for the paint fumes, I’d have already broken out the primary colors,” Lorelai replied, carefully climbing into her seat.

 

-

 

“Luke, I want you to know that I love you. I also want you to know that I am going to call you some pretty awful shit and blame you entirely.”

Two hours ago, Lorelai had said that. Rory hadn’t been in the room the whole time, she’d visited with Sookie and her grandparents out in the waiting room, but Lorelai was more or less incredibly right when she warned Luke about what she was saying. He took it like a pro.

Now that they were in the final stage and Lorelai was pushing, her attention had been more focused on the doctors poised to catch the baby.

“I sweat to Christ, if you tell me 'only one more push’ one more motherfucking time I am going to kick you in the face. I will kick you square in the face,” happened to be Rory’s favorite.

Now, as Rory had heard nearly every birthday her entire life, Lorelai was swearing like a sailor on leave, though it wasn’t directed at anyone specifically. She remembered giggling tiredly, cuddling into her mother, and falling back asleep when the story was over. This was… this was much different than she’d ever imagined.

While Luke was strong, holding her hand and whispering encouragement to her when he could manage, Rory was scared. She didn’t dare look toward the end of the bed, specifically turning her back to the sight, but she could smell the blood. Obviously she took no pleasure in her mother’s pain, but even having prepared herself for the sight she could hear her blood rushing. Her heartbeat was so heavy that it rocked her on her feet. She wouldn’t say a damn thing about it, not when her mother was holding her hand like this.

“The head is coming,” the doctor called from the end of the bed.

Instead of whatever witty quip Lorelai might have come up with in that moment disappeared with the pain of a contraction. A few tears managed to escape from her eyes, mixing with the sweat from the effort of pushing again.

“And the head is out!”

Rory nearly turned and looked, deciding against it at the last moment. She could stand to wait another push to meet her brother for the first time.

“Okay, Lorelai. This is it, one more push and it’s over. Count of three, bare down until it’s over, okay?” The suggestion was met with a half-shriek-half-laugh. They counted to three and Lorelai let out a low-pitched demon-like noise, pushing with all of the energy she had left.

Rory had never been so amazed by her mother.

And then it was over. Lorelai collapsed back into the bed, panting and sweating and finally done. Her hand went limp in Rory’s, though Rory held on. Luke leaned in to kiss his wife’s forehead, whispering praise while the doctors moved to clean and wrap the baby in a soft white blanket. Her brother was screaming.

Rory finally turned toward the end of her bed, her stomach turning at the blood on the nurses’ smocks. Instead, she focused on the newly wrapped blanket, watching as one nurse passes the bundle to another. Rory takes a step away from her mother, letting go of her hand for the first time in an over an hour.

The nurse walked to Lorelai’s beside, bending down to transfer the bundle over with a “Here you go, mommy”.

Just like that, the crying stopped.

Rory hadn’t noticed that she was crying until she had to wipe her tears off of her chin. The room had been so loud, so chaotic… Now it was like that faded into the background. Lorelai was exhausted, but the pure love radiating from her eyes was enough. She didn’t have to say anything, though she still managed.

“Hi, Will,” she said softly, her voice cracking. “We waited so long to meet you.”

Luke couldn’t have looked more blissfully happy if he’d won the World Series right in that moment. He was in awe, the dictionary definition of awe.

Reluctantly, Rory started to move toward the door.

“I’m gonna go tell Grandma and Grandpa,” she said, not wanting them to think she had abandoned them.

Lorelai’s eyes raised from her newest baby to her oldest, probably moments from passing out.

“Okay,” Lorelai said, glancing up at Luke before looking back at Rory. “Okay, but come back. Your brother’s gonna want to meet you.”

“I promise,” Rory nodded, offering a smile to her mother and Luke before slipping out into the hall.

 

-

 

**Tuesday, 11.11.2008**

 

William Gilmore Danes was born at 11:17 pm, November 10th, 2008. He was nineteen-and-a-half inches long, six pounds and eight ounces, and he was probably the most adored baby on the entire Earth.

After settling into the recovery room, Lorelai and Luke started letting people into the room. Emily and Richard came first to meet their second grandchild and only grandson. Richard was the one that cried, though Emily did come close. She also gave Luke what could be considered a bear hug.

Sookie didn’t stay long and she didn’t hold the baby. She was worried that with Davey already in school that it wouldn’t be safe. She did call him sweeter than every dessert she’d ever made, but that was obvious to anyone with eyes.

Most everyone was coming in the morning, when they’d had a little bit of time. Rory joked that Kirk’s next business venture would be shuttling people to the hospital to see the baby and Luke almost had a conniption before remembering it was a joke.

Rory, of course, got her chance to hold William. She noted that he had the same blue eyes as both of his parents the one time that she had him while he was awake.

Once Lorelai finally passed out and the room had cleared, Luke insisted Rory take a nap in the spousal bed. He was sat in the little chair by Lorelai’s bedside so that he could hold his wife’s hand while he stared down at William curled up in his arms.

Luke couldn’t look at anything else.


	6. Chapter five: 2008 (pt 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory stays with Jess for the weekend of her big Philadelphia Inquirer interview!  
> (Song(s) I listened to: Winter Dreams -Kelly Clarkson and Love Like This -Ben Rector)

**Friday, 12.05.08**

The cab ride from PHL was far shorter that Rory had expected, having searched up the exact distance on Google Maps before she even left for her plane. The way she was obsessively reading and re-reading article she had had to write for her interview was most definitely the reason that it took the cab driver telling her they were there for her to notice they weren't moving.

She typed out a text:

 **[to Jess]:**   _I'm outside._

After forking over the twenty-odd dollars she owed the driver, Rory slid her article back into the special folder and climbed out of the car to grab her suitcase from the trunk. That suitcase was all Rory had needed to bring for the weekend trip, making this the first time in eighteen months that she'd taken a plane with luggage that weighed less than she did. After nearly losing half her clothes in an Iowa airport, Rory was a massive fan of packing light.

Situated on the sidewalk with her bag, Rory took the time to slide her folder into a suitcase pocket before pulling her cellphone out of her jeans and checking if Jess had responded. No such luck.

Rory rolled her bag to the end of the metal green staircase, hesitant to climb to the door of the offices. It had been years since her heels were planted on the same sidewalk, at the end of the same stairs. The ghost of her past was reminding her of feelings she had already abandoned. Her vision blurred by tears, she had stared at the door, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to walk away again if he came after her. Rory had never felt so small as when he didn't.

The memory was enough to bring her to a nervous halt at the bottom step, wondering if it would be too extremely weird to stand in the place where he'd last kissed her. When they talked before, Jess had told her that he would come down to meet her. Maybe he wasn't looking at his phone. In the end, it was the forty degree wind and errant snowflakes managing to sneak past her layers that drove her to walk up the first few steps.

Before she had even made it to the first landing, the door at the top of the staircase flew open to show Jess, calling back to whoever was still inside.

"Just have her email me the poems... No, I can get to them tonight. No big deal. Yeah. Alright, bye!" He let the door shut behind him, zipping his coat while he turned to walk down the staircase.

Rory was surprised to by the warmth in the way he said her name, more surprised by on the way it spread through her frozen finger tips. His voice was nicer than she'd remembered, it sparked a nostalgic fondness that she couldn't get around. It wasn't that she had expected him to be less than pleased to see her, but it was startling to see the change in his body language that came with lending her his focus.

"Hey," Rory breathed, very aware of the sudden smile on her face. It would be believable that the color in her face came from wintry chill. "I didn't know if you got my text."

"Oh, yeah, I got it," Jess nodded, walking down to meet her on the stairs. "Let's throw your stuff in my car," he suggested, bending down to pick Rory's suitcase out of her hand.

"You really don't have to carry it; it isn't that heavy," Rory insisted, watching him hoist the luggage over his shoulder.

"I'll be fine. My car's just down the street," he shrugged, gesturing so that she would walk back down to the street. Rory relented and turned, waiting for him once she got to the sidewalk so that she could follow him to his car.

"How was your flight?" Jess steered Rory to the left.

"It was only an hour long, but I got to see the last twenty minutes of  _A Few Good Men._ Then I got to see the first half of  _Speed_ , so all in all: pretty good," she shrugged, watching Jess scan the street for his car. He didn't have any of the wrappings that Rory came prepared with. She was currently wearing her winter coat, a thick scarf and matching hat, and a pair of gaudy pink cat-themed mittens that her mother had gotten her when she was feeling particularly funny. Jess, on the other hand, was wearing a thin-looking quilted jacket.

Snowflakes were getting caught in his thick dark hair.

"How has your day been so far?" Rory asked.

"My day? Oh, it's been so incredibly interesting," Jess teased, fishing his car keys out of his pants while they approached his silver Honda. "First," he said, popping the trunk, "I fixed the broken radiator handle. Then, when the office was no longer a sauna, I called a couple of our writers to talk about deadlines and their lack of ability to meet them - which is always a ball," he slammed the trunk shut with Rory's suitcase tucked between two boxes filled with manila folders. "The rest of the day was filled with oh-so-joyous paperwork."

"So, I should feel terrible about taking you from all of that?" Rory guessed, exaggerating her mock-contrite tone while she proceeded to the passenger-side door.

"Obviously," Jess winked, a smile spreading on his face. He hopped back up onto the sidewalk and started to walk back the way that they had come from. "Come on, catch up." Rory raised an eyebrow, speed-walking to catch up to him.

"I thought we were going to go back to your apartment," Rory puzzled.

"We are. Eventually," Jess said nonchalantly, stepping off the sidewalk and checking for cars before escorting her to the other side. "I want to get lunch first."

"It's only eleven."

"Are you telling me you're not hungry?" Jess challenged, not bothering to suppress his smile.

"Well... maybe I'm a little hungry," Rory admitted. She'd really only eaten before she'd left for the airport.

"There's a diner around the corner that's got good pie. I figured we could get some lunch there before we go?"

"Go where?" Rory asked, tucking her gloves into her armpits to keep her fingers warm.

"I want to show you a few things before we head back to my apartment," Jess explained, pulling open the door of the diner for Rory and letting her in first.

Once inside, Rory pulled off her mittens and her hat, stuffing them into her coat pocket. "What kind of things?"

Jess crossed to the closest empty booth, unzipping his jacket before he sat. "Well," he said, "I know you've been looking at cost of living standards and the tourist-y stuff like the Edgar Allen Poe place, but I think that you're missing things if you're just looking at what Google says about the city."

"I've got an interview tomorrow," Rory protests, sliding into her seat and dropping her hat onto the table.

"I knew I was forgetting something!" Jess faux-groaned, smacking his forehead.

Despite her attempt at a stubborn expression, Rory couldn't stop her lips from twitching up in the corners. "I also know that you've been preparing non stop for this interview. You're all tense and stressed about it; you're gonna overthink things. I know you, Rory. You're more prepared for this interview than the Pope is for the rapture. I just want you to relax a little. You should explore a little, see if you even want to live here when you get the job."

"If," Rory corrected, turning her attention to the waiter that had come to take their drink order. They both got a Coke, Jess's with lemon. Once the waiter had receded back behind the counter, Rory focused back on the topic at hand. "If I get the job. It's not a sure thing, there's five or six other people interviewing as far as I know."

"Those people weren't the valedictorian of a snooty Quaker school. They weren't editor of the Yale Daily News. And they definitely haven't been published in national newspapers six times," Jess insisted, reclining against the back of his bench. He seemed so sure she was already hired.

It was hard not to get her hopes up when she was faced with that sort of unshakable confidence.

"I thought we were just going to your apartment. I made flashcards," Rory explained, lifting her purse where the cards resided.

"They aren't going to quiz you on Philadelphia," Jess said, clearly tickled by the preparation she'd put in.

"No, they aren't. But I'm not from the area and I think the other finalists are. So, I want to have some sort of conversational background knowledge. Plus, they always ask if you have any questions and I want to have questions," Rory explained, turning her attention to the menu. "Would it be incredibly typical of me to order a cheesesteak?"

"Of course it would," Jess nodded. "I'll get one too."

Rory set down the menu, smiling across the table. It was easier to be around him than she'd worried. It was easy to forget that through the dramatic turns of their romantic history that they had been friends. That she was able to really talk to Jess. The had a lot in common.

"Alright. So, I won't keep you from your flashcards for too long, okay?" Jess started, holding a hand up to hold off Rory's apprehensive expression. "I just want to give you some in-person experience with the city. There are five places I want to take you-"

"Five places?"

"-which, under certain circumstances can be narrowed to three," he nodded to Rory's concern, continuing on, "All of which should be over and done with by eight o'clock. Then we come back, get my car, and drive to my apartment where we will order some of the best bad Chinese food you've ever had," Jess nodded. "After that, I'll even help quiz you with your flashcards. I'm not going into work tomorrow until the afternoon, so I'll be around to help prep you in the morning too. Deal?"

Jess's hand extended across the table toward Rory and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Three places, done by eight?" She clarified.

"Three by eight," Jess confirmed with a nod.

Rory shook his hand, surprised by how warm he was to the touch considering how little precautions he took against the weather.

"Your hands are freezing," Jess said, turning his head toward the counter. "Maybe we should get coffee. Yeah?"

"Works for me," Rory nodded, rubbing her hands together for some friction.

Jess slid out of his seat and walked to the counter, leaning in to supposedly ask for two cups of coffee. He was back in no time, bounty in hand.

"No cream, two sugars?" Jess asked, sliding a mug toward Rory.

"Perfect," Rory nodded, gratefully wrapping her fingers around the warm mug. Jess smiled again.

She felt warm.

-

That bookstore is what Rory Gilmore's ideal hoarding situation would look like. She had, of course, been to many independent bookstores in her day. She couldn't have stopped from shopping for herself while she was on her book hunt for William, causing her to spend the time that others spent at national monuments deep within dusty stacks. Each little shop would have their gimmick, City Lights in San Francisco boasting their publishing relationship to Allen Ginsberg or Basically Books in Cedar Rapids maintaining an incredibly close relationship with the surrounding community.

House Of Our Own Books was nestled inside of a Victorian house just off the edge of Penn State campus. When Jess guided her toward the door, she had to take a second look at the sign to make sure that it was, in fact, a shop. Once inside... well, her mind was made up. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, stacks lining the staircase, and a display just in the front that had some of the most perfectly kitschy book-related paraphernalia. She picked up a pencil case that said 'Designated Reader' and glanced back at Jess.

"Do we really have anywhere else to go?" She joked, looking back at the shop.

"Maybe this should have been the last stop," he chuckled in response.

Two hours later they were leaving with a bag of books that was a severely edited version of the list Rory had originally made. Jess had a slightly smaller bag, mostly attributed to the fact that he could come back whenever he wanted to. By the time they'd gotten seats on the metro, Rory's fingers had gone numb in the cold. Jess took her bags so that she could fumble around in her pockets for her gloves, conveniently forgetting to hand back the bag of books until they were almost arriving at their second destination.

"You don't have to carry my bag. I've gotten pretty strong, carrying around my suitcases. I even brought Luke his toolbox last week," Rory insisted, flexing her muscle. Never mind that they were under a coat and a few other layers.

"Yeah? How is Bert doing these days?" Jess asked evasively, switching Rory's bag to his other hand.

"Hasn't lost any weight, really. Probably gained some with all the baby proofing supplies," she shrugged, sliding to stand on Jess's other side so that she could snake her bag out of his grip. He relented and sighed dramatically.

"I just thought you'd want your hands free for the next place," Jess said, pointing toward the overhanging neon 'M' sign a few storefronts away.

"Mycenaean," Rory read, glancing at Jess. "Very Greek."

"We are in the Athens of America," Jess reminded her, "I'd have expected you to remember that after all your research."

"I shouldn't even bother going to the interview now," Rory sighed, slapping her forehead.

"I wasn't going to say anything but, at this point, that might be wise," Jess agreed, stepping forward to open the door. Rory beat him to it, waving him past her and into the store. He rolled his eyes playfully and walked past her, stomping the snow off his shoes on the way in.

Following after him, Rory took a moment to gaze around the store. She hadn't seen the colorful displays through the frosted glass, but inside it was pretty fantastically vibrant. It vaguely reminded her of the way that Lane decorated her closet while she still lived at home, though this was better lit. It was in the shape of a long hallway, the back half dominated by records and CDs and the front boasting band merchandise; the selection ranged from t-shirts to magnets to posters. In the corner there was a cardboard cut-out, but she wasn't sure that was for sale. It might have just stood there to keep the bored-looking cashier company. She was too invested in her sudoku puzzle to really mind that they were around.

"That's the owner's daughter," Jess murmured, his breath ghosting over her ear. He walked past the racks of clothing and down the center isle, dragging his bare fingertips over the CD cases. Rory broke her focus on Jess, instead deciding to stay around the bits and bobs of merchandise. The whole store seemed to be dominated by Philadelphia-born bands but it seemed that there was an exception for bands that loved the city, judging by the G. Love & Special Sauce buttons. She'd never been that big of a harmonica fan, so she moved on.

Jess seemed focused on finding something, now onto the band of records that hugged the wall. He was definitely searching for something specific.

Rory turned away from him again, facing the rack of hats instead. Her back was to him for now.

She slowly turned the rotating rack of hats, noting the bigger names: The Roots, Hall & Oates, Boys II Men. There were a few knit hats interspersed with the baseball caps. One was particularly ugly: a knit beanie made of sparkly white yarn with a stiff brim and the most gaudy bedazzlement she had ever seen. Big pink, purple, and yellow stones littered the brim while a shiny rainbow flower stood in the center of the hat, turquoise 'leaves' branching out around the crown.

Awful. Fantastically awful. Rory plucked the hat off of its spot on the rack and removed her own, trying the thing on and making a fish-face in the mirror. A model, right there in the flesh.

She turned to look for Jess again, wondering what he thought of the tacky beast, but found him already on his way over with his eyes on the record in his hand. The moment that he looked up at her it seemed that he needed a moment to truly register the grandeur of what she was wearing.

He snorted loudly. "Looks fantastic on you, really," he smirked, pressing his finger down on the brim so that he could see the heart-shaped rhinestones laying there, "Who's this supposed to be?"

Rory shrugged and turned to look back in the little mirror. "No idea. There's not a tag. Think my mother would like it?"

"No idea," Jess shrugged, squishing in to look at the mirror with her. He couldn't keep a straight face long enough to pretend to appraise it.

"This might be just the present for her," Rory laughed, pulling the hat off her head and examining it again. She noticed Jess's hand twitch.

"Your hair's all static-y," he said, looking back at the hat in her hand. She reached up to smooth her head. "You know, I think that the hat is really... well, it's art, isn't it? But I don't think you should give it to your mother."

Rory frowned, turning to Jess. "Really?"

"Yeah," Jess shrugged, holding up the record in his hands. "I think you should give her this."

"Britny Fox," Rory gawped, taking the record and turning it over. "It's signed."

"By all four members," he nodded. "It's a total collector's item. To make up for Belinda."

Belinda. New York. Her mother's graduation present.

She grinned at Jess and then back at the record. "I'm surprised you remember Belinda," she admitted, setting the record down so that she could turn back to the hat rack and replace the bedazzled hat back to where it belonged.

"Of course I remember Belinda. It was a very memorable trip," Jess nodded, retreating back to the rows of CDs. She picked up the record and followed after him, her bag of books hanging off her elbow.

She couldn't think of much else but New York for the hour of browsing through albums. That was a good trip.

-

It was the right call, to go back to Jess's car. The record alone was expensive enough for Rory to want a safe place for her things but the decision was ratified when the snow started to fall harder. Neither of them wanted to have waterlogged paperbacks and so they took the metro back to Truncheon and packed their things into the trunk with Rory's suitcase.

They were onto their third and final destination, the Ramones playing so loudly that the bass vibrated Rory's seat. As 'I Wanna Be Sedated' came to a close, Rory turned down the volume and turned to face Jess.

"Where are we actually going?" Rory breathed, holding her hands up to the air vents on the dashboard.

"Center City," Jess shrugged, watching as someone with inch-thick frames changed lanes without a signal. The driver in the next lane was not happy judging by the mouthed profanities and three hits of his horn.

"That's like saying we're going to Brooklyn. I need a better estimate for that if I'm getting any sort of picture in my head," Rory pressed, leaning on the center console.

"Sometimes surprises can be fun, you know," Jess said, shooting Rory an amused look. She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap. "It won't be much longer. We just have to go a few more lights and then cross our fingers for a spot in the parking garage."

"I doubt we'll get that lucky with this much traffic," Rory pointed out, watching pedestrians stroll by the car with bags full of what was probably Christmas shopping. She'd only managed to get Luke's present before coming to Philly - yet another mug in his collection of horribly tacky regional coffee mugs - and now she had the Britny Fox record for her mother. She figured that any item of clothing would be superfluous for Will seeing as he was the most well dressed baby she had ever met, courtesy of Emily and Richard Gilmore. Really, getting William anything would be just adding onto the mountain of gifts her brother was going to get from basically everyone they knew.

"You told me I was your good luck charm once," Jess reminded her, pulling away from the intersection at the light change. "Let's hope that still applies."

"I'm pretty sure that only applied to tests," Rory replied, tapping her fingers on the windowsill.

"This is a test of endurance."

That turned out to be not entirely untrue. Jess was on his second full sweep of the garage before he finally found a woman vacating her spot on the fifth level. Sure, it was no where near the elevator and there was a puddle of what might be pee in the corner, but it was better than the packed streets.

"So now we go sight seeing?" Rory asked, an eyebrow perked up.

"Sort of," Jess shrugged, climbing out of the car. Before he or Rory could leave for the elevator, Jess stopped. "Wait, wait. I forgot something," he sighed, snapping his fingers together.

He popped his trunk open and start to rifle through the bags. Rory thought maybe he'd left his wallet in the bag, maybe his cellphone, but once Jess turned around she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"You bought the hat?"

Jess nodded and held it up to show off the glimmering plastic jewels.

"Consider it an extra Christmas present," he winked, holding it out to Rory. She held up her hands.

"I don't think it would look right on me. Maybe you should wear it," Rory nodded.

"Haven't you ever heard that refusing a gift given in good faith is extremely rude?" Jess jutted out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

"Good faith requires the sincerity of intentions," Rory said, her hands resting on her hips.

"And I sincerely would enjoy seeing you wear this hat," Jess returned.

Rory's nose wrinkled. "Fine." She pulled off her own woolly hat and tossed it into her bag of books. Jess grinned at his victory, handing over the hat and slamming the trunk shut while Rory tugged on her new accessory. It was heavy from the bedazzlement.

She could see in the corner of her eye that Jess was trying to suppress the smile on his face while they walked to the elevator.

"Don't think you've gotten away unscathed," she said, pressing the down button.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jess nodded.

The two of them lapsed into conversation about what other things they were thinking of getting their family members. He'd gotten his stepsister, Lily, a complete collection of Sherlock Holmes short stories and his mother some new jewelry making tools. He expressed some jealousy at Rory's having already checked Luke off her list seeing as he was often difficult to shop for. That row of complaining morphed into another and another until they were bickering about which of Luke's habits was the most peevish. Rory was under the impression that his tendency to wake up at 6 am every morning and mumble-sing while he cooked breakfast was worse than his tendency to toss socks in the general direction of the laundry basket, but Jess disagreed vehemently.

They eventually called it quits, turning the corner so that they were in full view of John F. Kennedy Plaza. It was completely decked out in lights and baubles and corny decorations, all in the name of Christmas.

"Holy..." Rory murmured, looking at the LOVE sculpture over tops of heads. The place was nearly unrecognizable. There had to be a few thousand people mulling around the stalls.

"That would be the idea," Jess nodded. "I'd say that we should try to keep an eye on one another, but I figure that it's pretty easy to find you in a crowd..."

Rory scoffed and nudged Jess's shoulder. "Trust me, I'm on the look out for your hat. Your ears are looking a little pink."

"I sincerely doubt that they sell anything nearly as magnificent here," Jess said confidently, leading Rory into the crowd.

First, they got a mulled wine that was apparently 'glue-wine'- it definitely brought a little heat to her chest. Next, they browsed the traditional food items - she got a homemade gingerbread mix for her grandmother and a surprisingly cheap hand-made pipe for her grandfather that happened to be sold at the next booth over. A little later on, while Jess was examining a row of little snow globes for Doula, Rory bought a hanging astronaut ornament for the tree, a santa hat glued to the shiny helmet. It wasn't until she was browsing for Paris's gift that she found a truly fantastic item for purchase.

It took all of thirty seconds from the moment she spotted the hat - a red-white-green striped elf hat with big felt pointed ears - to get it fit snuggly onto Jess's head with the adjustable snaps fixed to keep it on tight. A $20 that she felt was well spent before she knew that the little circle on the brim was a button that made the elf ears wiggle.

Equally decked out in clashing garb, they wandered for longer than they originally planned and found themselves eventually stood in a crowd watching people in lederhosen dance something quick and fancy. Rory had her second cup of glue-wine and she was feeling pretty good, only having to find a gift for Kwan and Steve now. Lane had made her promise not to get anything matching, insisting that her boys would be able to 'cultivate their individuality' in a way that she never had. It was just a little difficult to really play to their preferences when all either of them could say was about 40 words, half in Korean, and most often spoken being 'ball' and 'no'.

Jess thought that she should get them onesies from feuding bands, Metallica and Tool or Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynyrd, something classic but totally not matching. Plus, Lane couldn't get mad at good bands.

As one of the dancers pulled a woman from the crowd, Rory turned to really look at Jess. His nose was a little red from the cold, as were the tips of his ears. That hat looked incredibly stupid on him and it quirked up the corners of her mouth. The deep umber of his eyes was reflecting the hanging lights around them, making them shine like sun through honey. He turned to her with a grin, quirking an eyebrow at her. Smoothly, Rory turned her attention back to the performance.

There was a sense of burgeoning pride in her chest every time she really took a moment to look at Jess Mariano. She remembered when she was 17 and in love with him and she thought she was seeing him for the last time in her life, never mind that she would always know Luke and he would always be Luke's nephew. In that moment, watching him walk away from her bus, she'd wondered if he was going to turn back into the kid that had to be sent out of the city in the first place.

Half a decade later, she was stood next to a guy that had his shit even more pulled together than hers. She wondered idly what he would have been had he been backed by Emily and Richard Gilmore.

He'd have gotten the New York Times internship, that's the least of it.

"Let's go home," she said, pulling back her sleeve to check her watch. 7:30.

"What's that?" Jess asked, turning toward Rory.

"Let's go back to your place? I'm getting hungry and you promised Chinese," she reminded him, turning to slip her way through the crowd behind them. She could tell without looking that Jess was right on her heels.

"I thought we were going to take another shot at getting a gift for Paul Anka," Jess said, touching Rory's shoulder to guide her in the right direction.

"I already have a gift for Paul Anka," She replied, "I'm actually good at Christmas shopping, unlike some people."

"You got him a sweater. He has sweaters," Jess pointed out.

"He doesn't have a sweater that matches perfectly with Lorelai's," Rory nodded, lifting the bag that held both bright blue ugly Christmas sweaters. The woman who made them was good at what she did. Luke would hate them.

"Luke is not going to be a fan of those," Jess sighed, pressing the crosswalk button and stuffing his cold hands into his pockets.

"Trust me, I know. It's why I didn't get one for him. And there was a discount if you got three," she laughed.

He laughed, "Lorelai isn't going to be a fan of that."

"It's why no one will tell her. For Luke's sake. And for William's," Rory nodded, stepping into the street. Her food slipped a bit in the slush, but before she could fall prey to the weather, she righted herself. She loved snow as much as-... Well, maybe not as much as her mother, but as much as any normal Connecticut-dweller did. It was the slush she couldn't stand, when the pristine white scenery was turned grey and sloppy. Winter went on too long, it should always go directly to the budding flowers.

She expressed her opinions on wintertime to Jess while they walked the way to his car, which turned into him saying something pretentious that made her giggle; "The only way that we know it's beautiful is because we're made to wait for the beauty. Otherwise everything would be beautiful and we wouldn't know what we should value. We wouldn't know how we feel without it."

Rory punched him in the arm and blamed the poets he worked with for the flowery language.

Once in the car, Rory fished her portable CD player from her purse and popped it open. Before Jess could so much as ask what she was trying to play, she was cranking up the BRMC and pulling off her gloves to hold her fingers in front of the warm air vents.

Jess turned down the volume to tell her to put her seat belt on, but Rory only turned it back up and sang (badly) along to the track. She did buckle her seat belt, though. She could tell that it amused Jess.

-

Jess backed out of his elevator with his hands up, almost like he was trying to convince a crazy with a gun not to shoot him.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what happened to you," He sighed, turning away from Rory so that he could walk down the hall toward his apartment.

"Nothing  _happened_  to me, Jess. I didn't commit some mortal sin," She groaned, dragging her suitcase over the weirdly discolored area rug.

"When we met, you had William Faulkner and Eudora Welty on your shelves. You were like a high member of literary society and now?" He teased, setting down their books to find his keys and open the door.

"Now you're acting like a total snob?" Rory suggested, leaning against the door frame.

"No, now you're reading Twilight," Jess said, unlocking the door and pushing it open for Rory before picking up the bags.

"Did I say that Stephanie Myers was my favorite author? No, I said that her writing was a window into the way she thinks," Rory rolled her eyes, stepping into the apartment.

"You said we should go see the movie when it comes out," Jess replied, entering after her. "You can just drop your stuff by the couch, I've still got to fix your bed."

"I thought my bed was the couch," Rory said, collapsing down into the couch with her things.

"I'm an adult, Rory," Jess rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen.

"What does that have to do with anything?" She laughed, letting her hair out of the ponytail she'd had it in.

"You don't think I have more than one couch?" He asked, reappearing with a beer in each hand.

"Oh my god, you are a real life adult," Rory gasped, reaching out to accept the beer. She wasn't going to get much studying done, three drinks in. But she figured that she'd managed to go to class after more than this. Jess was right that she was prepared and she definitely didn't want to come off like someone they wouldn't want to work with. The rapport she'd built with the few people she had talked to over the phone was good enough for her to know she could relax a little. At least until she woke up the next day and started to study.

"Surprisingly enough, I am," Jess nodded, dropping onto the other end of the couch. He kicked his socks up onto the coffee table and closed his eyes while he sipped at his drink. It was still a little weird to see him drink, like she should be worried that he was going to get caught.

She curled her legs up onto the couch and looked around the apartment. The walls were either a painted dark forest green or left as exposed brick, decorated with a miscellaneous bunch of art which didn't go together and made Rory think that each piece was an individual gift. She didn't really see him buying the painting of a duck in rain boots and a bucket hat. It was cute, but not exactly Jess Mariano-esque.

"Where are the books?"

"The books?" Jess echoed.

"Your books. Where are they? Your bedroom?" Rory could see about ten in total in the entire room. Jess's version of sugar, spice, and everything nice included almost as many books as there were in the Harvard library.

Jess nodded and swallowed a mouthful of beer before straightening up and setting his bottle down on the coffee table. "They're in my office."

"You have an office? I thought you all sat together," Rory remembered the way he'd described their desk clusters when she'd been in the office.

"Not at work, my home office," he explained, standing and walking toward the frosted glass french doors that were a few feet from his end of the couch. Rory didn't realize that that wasn't actually his bedroom until she watched from over his shoulder as he pulled open the doors.

"That would be the books," Rory nodded, staring at the impressive collection with a pure sense of appreciation. Two of the walls were covered in built-in floor-to-ceiling shelves that were filled not only with books but with a pretty impressive collection of music and other memerobilia. She picked up a carved wooden swan and turned it over in her hands.

"A present from Luke," Jess explained, perching on the edge of the desk that stood in the back center of the office. She set down the carving and instead focused in on the furniture. There was a chair squished against one of the shelves and a table rested awkwardly behind the couch by the window.

"You know, I was never under the impression that you were an interior decorator. But this is a little... avant garde," she teased, sitting on the arm of the leather chair.

"This is your bed," he replied, rolling his eyes. Jess stood and stripped the couch of its cushions, revealing the pullout underneath. She clapped for him, winking when he shot her an exasperated look. Within the minute, she had a bed. A bed with no pillows or blankets, but it did have an interestingly patterned set of sheets.

"Why do you have flowers and geese and horses on your bed sheets?" Rory asked, leaning in to examine the little cartoons.

Jess sighed, stepping around the bed and sliding behind her so that he could leave the room. "Well, I had a conversation with TJ," he started, as so many fun stories did. She followed him toward the kitchen, sitting on the bar stool at the peninsula. "He was talking about doing something for his anniversary with Liz, so I figured that I'd volunteer to help him because I have some ticket scalping friends that owe me a few- you know, from when I was a hoodlum?" Rory nodded and gestured for him to continue while he pawed through a drawer on the other side of the counter. "Well, I told him that he should ask her what type of musical she'd like to go to, since she's all about pretending to be cultural, and it lead to me telling him that a lot of great musicals come from books. Les Miserables, Oliver Twist, Phantom of the Opera-"

"Cats," Rory added.

"Yeah, Cats," Jess scoffed, shaking his head and pulling out a few brightly colored pamphlets. "Anyway, it got him to think that I am a massive fan of the theater."

"I cannot say that I couldn't see you being the next Leo Bloom," Rory shrugged, taking the take-out menus from Jess when he slid them across the counter.

"That's only because you think it would be funny to see me in a stuffy suit like that," Jess accused, leaning on the counter with his elbows.

"No, I think you'd look just fine in a suit," Rory shrugged, looking over the menu. There were more options than at Al's Pancake House, at least. She hummed softly, scanning until she found something that she knew she liked and something she thought that she wouldn't. "I want sweet and sour pork and a salmon skin and cabbage salad," she said, sliding the menu back to Jess.

"Well, fine. But you're gonna want to use floss after that," he muttered, turning to pick his home phone off the counter. "Long story short, TJ can't be bothered to read a bunch of books with his busy schedule. What he can manage is to rent all of the movie adaptations of musicals for their weekly date night. Those sheets are a result of their Julie Andrews kick."

"Well, I don't doubt that they are one of your favorite things," Rory smirked, folding her arms on the counter and resting her chin on them while she waited for him to order their food.

 

\-----

 

**Saturday 12.06.08**

Three hours and forty-seven minutes passed between the time the food arrived and when Rory opened her eyes from what felt like a very long blink. Slowly, she raised her wrist to her eyes so that she could read the time: 12:18. It felt much later.

Slowly and with hesitation, Rory forced herself to sit up and take stock. She had fallen asleep during the Truman Show, probably close to an hour ago considering that Juno was playing on the television. She and Jess had sat propped against opposite arms of his couch while they ate horrible amounts of Chinese food and barely listened to what was happening on the television. He must have covered her with the throw blanket because she didn't remember pulling it down over herself.

Speaking of, Jess was curled at the other end of the couch, trying not to encroach on her space judging by the way he was curled tightly around a throw pillow. It was probably his snoring that woke her up in the first place.

She dragged her feet to the floor and stood, stretching her arms out and letting out a yawn. Turning back to the couch, she could see that Jess's leg had already extended to take her place. Rory carefully fished the blanket out from under his stretched leg, adjusting it so that it covered him from toe to mid-chest. With a gentle hand, she moved his head out of the awkward angle it rested in and then turned back to the coffee table. The two had managed to cover the table in take out boxes and the generic paper bags food deliveries come in. She gathered the many superfluous soy sauce packages and other garbage into one bag, bringing it to the kitchen peninsula before returning to the couch and turning off the lamp nearby.

Rory gathered her cellphone and charger from her purse before receding into the office area by the glow of her screen. She slid the frosted french doors shut before turning on the overhead light and re-situating herself. Glad that she'd already moved her bag to the office, she changed into her fuzzy pajama bottoms and a baggy shirt moving to peel back her covers.

Before she could sandwich herself into the layers, Rory saw her phone screen light up with a text alert. No one messaged her this late at night.

 **[from Mom]** : I hope this doesn't wake you - your brother just went to sleep. Just wanted to say that I hope your trip is going well and that you aren't too stressed. You're going to blow them away tomorrow. Just make sure you take a few deep breaths.

A fond warmth spread under Rory's skin.

 **[to Mom]** : That kid's giving you a run for your money. Not asleep yet, on my way there. Thanks for the pep talk.

 **[from Mom]** : Call me if you want a pep talk, that was nothing. Is everything going okay in Philadelphia?

 **[to Mom]** : Everything's great. Got some Christmas shopping out of the way and Jess showed me some cool shops.

 **[from Mom]** : You two are having fun?

 **[to Mom]** : Why wouldn't we be?

That was probably a stupid question, but Rory wanted to make it clear that she wasn't worried about Jess. Even if there was a sorta-weird undercurrent, they could manage it. Or at least they could fake it until it went away.

Sometimes, when they were just talking about nothing, she forgot that they were anything but an uncomplicated pair of friends.

 **[from Mom]** : Call me tomorrow, alright? I'm on my way to bed. I want to hear from you as soon as you step out of the interview, no bathroom breaks. Got it?

 **[to Mom]** : Got it.

She thanked her mother for letting the issue go. That wasn't really Lorelai's strong suit.

 **[from Mom]** : I love you, kid. Break a leg.

 **[to Mom]** : I'll break them both to be safe. Love you too. Sleep good.

 **[from Mom]** : Back atcha.

Rory set her phone down and laid back, looking up at the few slivers of light coming through the curtains. She didn't really want to lie to her mother and say that she didn't understand the question, but that didn't mean she wanted to verbally acknowledge the context. She was ready to have a normal relationship with Jess, or at least as normal of a relationship as she could possibly have with him. She rolled onto her side and pulled down her second pillow so that she could spoon it.

What did she really want from Jess after all this time? That question made her groan into the pillow, her frustration seeping out. She should be asleep and instead she was imagining the way he'd looked when she left him in the living room, his hair flopping over his forehead and his mouth gaping slightly. She could hear the muffled sound of his snores through the doors, drilling into her already stressed consciousness. He was unavoidable in this space.

Be that as it may, she still had an interview in the morning. Instead of allowing herself to stress about whether or not she should be thinking of him, Rory allowed her mind to wander. She drifted off, wondering what it would be like between them the next time they were together for the holidays. Would she ever think of him as family?

-

"October 29, 2008?" Jess prompted between sips of coffee, flipping his hair out of his face so that he could read Rory's cramped writing.

"Brad Lidge strikes out Eric Hinske of the Tampa Bay Rays and wins the World Series. Hinske had previously shown himself to be able to stand up to Lidge's abilities but was unable to come through in game five," Rory said, regurgitating the information that she knew was on the card in his hand.

"That's right, though I don't know how it would come up in an interview for a review column," Jess said, flipping to the next flashcard. "From what I know, no one in that department really cares about sports."

"Well, maybe someone in the support staff cares about sports," Rory shrugged, "sometimes the interviewer has a secretary talk to the applicants and weed out the ones that would be no fun to work with. If that secretary is a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies-"

"Then you're in," Jess finished, glancing up from the card in his hand to avoid walking into a man loudly speaking into his bluetooth about something to do with Margaret.

"Poor Margaret... What's up next?" She asked, turning her eyes to the shop fronts so that she didn't accidentally see what was left.

"You can find pieces of Einstein's brain in...?"

"The Mütter Museum," Rory completed, glancing at the card and confirming her correct answer before Jess could manage.

"Seriously?" He asked, wrinkling his nose at her.

"Yeah, seriously. There's a liver that Siamese twins shared and a nine foot colon, too," She said as they rounded their last corner. She stopped thirty feet from the front door.

Jess read the last card, "Albert C. Barnes, after dying in 1951, said that his artworks-"

"Must remain exactly where they are. But then they were moved to a museum in the same configuration that they'd been before being moved, so the spirit of the request was still being carried on," Rory smiled.

"Crazy old man," Jess sighed, handing the two inch stack of cards back to Rory so that she could hide them in her purse again. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling good," she nodded. "How do I look?"

"Very professional," Jess responded, smiling. "Except, y'know, for the lipstick all over your teeth."

Rory gasped, quickly turning to use the window beside them as a mirror. Jess chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder to pull her back around to face him. Once she was staring him in the eye, he rested his coffee-carrying hand on her other shoulder and leaned in to stare her in the eye.

"Rory Gilmore, you are ready for this. You look good, you are smarter than just about anyone besides maybe those pieces of Einstein in that weird museum, and everyone else is going to suck compared to you if they don't already," He said, his voice measured.

"You think they suck?" Rory breathed, her eyes wide and locked onto his.

"I know they suck. Now, do you want the rest of my coffee or are you already buzzing?"

"No, no. I don't want coffee breath," She shook her head, turning to look at the front door she was meant to march through, the door to a fairly nice Italian restaurant.

"Now. Be cunning, and full of tricks, and you will never be destroyed," he said, marching with her to the front door.

"I'm not about to fight for my survival," Rory rolled her eyes.

"Do or Do Not. There is no try?" Jess suggested, stopping a few feet from the door so that she could walk in alone.

"Close enough, Yoda."

Jess held up his free hand to salute her. "Let's go kick some extraterrestrial ass."

She cracked a smile and half-heartedly saluted back. "Oh Captain, my Captain."

Jess stayed in place on the sidewalk, watching until Rory slipped through the second set of glass doors and walked out of his field of vision. An onlooker might have thought he was just pausing to finish his coffee and toss it in the nearby bin before he had to walk back to his car. Had Rory looked over her shoulder, even she wouldn't have recognized his expression.

She had missed it too many times

-

"D'you know when Louis is coming back?" Matt asked, tossing a piece of paper across the room only to let it bounce off the backboard that was the side of Jess's desk.

"No idea. He said that he was helping his friend do something," Jess shrugged, leaning over to grab the balled up paper and drop it into the wastebasket by his desk. His was the only one that wasn't already overflowing with the same. Apparently he had missed an epic tournament while he was taking the morning off.

"Pretty sure that friend is a girlfriend," Gen responded, kicking her feet up onto her desk and shoving a pencil into her ponytail for safekeeping. She tended to be more insightful than the rest of them, but he still found that there was some room for doubt when it came to her emotional intelligence. She wasn't yet omnipotent, but was very possibly on her way there.

"I'll bite. What makes you think Louis has a girlfriend?" Chris asked, tossing a ball to Jess's desk and missing by an entire foot. He wasn't as good at the game. He tended to lose their bets.

Gen shrugged and rested her legal pad in her lap. "He got a bunch of new dress shirts, a new jacket, and he hasn't missed a spot shaving in almost two weeks."

"Maybe he's taking a run at Jess's title," Chris responded, winking at Jess. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his work.

Over a period of about two months, Jess had somehow managed to attract four out of the seven prospective authors that he'd met. This then started a joke betting pool as to whether or not the writers would have the hots for him. He was glad to say that most of them did not have any interest in him, but his grand total of date offers that he received by Christmas earned him the little trophy that sat on his desk: a blue column with a tennis player posed on top and a plaque that read:

Hottest in the office (2008)

JESS MARIANO

He kept it on the desk because it made him feel a little bit like the high school athlete who was past his prime.

"Nah, Louis hates attention - unlike Jess," she smirked, setting her feet down. "I'm telling you, guys. He's got a girlfriend and I think he's really into her."

"Well, then I hope we get to meet her. Maybe then you guys'll stop bugging me," Jess grumbled, acting the part of the group grump.

"We'll never forget about you, you lovely man," Matt grinned. "Who else would keep track of the coffee creamer?"

"Or the roladex or your keys," Jess continued for him, doing his best to actually focus on the work he was supposed to be doing.

"Well, yeah. You're invaluable, obviously."

"Now, now. Boys, you're both gorgeous. Stop arguing or you'll upset mother," Chris interjected, standing and grabbing his jacket. "I'm starved. Does anyone else want to go to Frank and Mary's?"

"I'm down if you buy me pie," Gen responded, dropping her shoes to the floor.

"I'll buy you pie - Matt? Jess? Are you to be enticed by pie?" Chris asked.

"If by pie, we mean a donut, I am," Matt agreed, standing and crumpling up a post-it note to toss in Jess's general direction. The thing landed on his desk and skidded into his stack of books before falling to the ground.

"We do not mean a donut, but there will be pie," Chris responded. Matt groaned dramatically, but trudged toward the door where his coat was hanging despite the disappointment. "Jess?"

"No, I already missed the morning. I figure I'll order something and get my work done while I still can," Jess explained, waving off his friends.

"Yes, you're on call for step-mommy dearest, aren't you?" Matt teased, pulling on his gloves.

"The Mrs. Robinson of rural Connecticut," Gen suggested, heading for the door.

"You spend too much time with books," Jess complained, picking up and tossing the post-it ball in the group's general direction.

"Are you kidding? You're our resident Matilda!" Matt laughed, opening the door so that the others could step out before him.

"Shut up and go eat your pie," Jess said, waving while Matt disappeared out of the office.

And finally, quiet. The only noise was coming from the radiator and the little fan that Gen kept on her desk. Jess needed another cup of coffee. He grabbed his empty Maxine mug and crossed toward their little kitchen, humming single notes that didn't belong to any song in particular. For now, he was doing a run down of all the things that he had on his desk. There were two writers waiting to hear back from him, one on a book of short stories and the other just needing a kick in the pants so that they hit their deadline. He supposed he could make the call first, but he wasn't sure if he could really be the disciplinarian that he needed to be for that type of phone call. There was a thin line between motivation and being a dick that he hadn't learned to tightrope walk yet. He could wait until Louis was back, at least. He was good at that stuff, if the worst happened he could walk Jess through the minefield.

By the time he'd gotten back to his desk, Jess had decided that he would make the call when the office was full. That way he wouldn't be able to fuck it up. He remembered how hard it had been for him to meet the deadlines when he was editing his own book, the main part already having been written. He didn't love to be the one demanding more from writers who were trying their hardest.

Instead of waiting around for company, Jess delved into his work email. His inbox was sadly unkempt, the spam filters having done nothing to decrease the amount of holiday deals he was being made aware of. By the time he came up for air, having cleared all of the two hundred thirty-seven notifications, his half finished drink was room temperature and his cellphone was absolutely and utterly dead.

"Shit," he grumbled, fumbling in his desk for the charger. He'd probably missed Rory's call and she was probably stranded in downtown Philly. Sure, she could go back to the apartment, but she couldn't get in. Checking the time basically confirmed the fact that he'd dropped the ball: it was almost 3:45. He was supposed to hear from her an hour ago.

In the interim, Jess started to clean up his desk. He organized his papers, left a sticky note on his desk phone that said 'CALL NADIA ASAP', and walked his "I ♥ My Attitude Problem" mug back to the kitchen. He tidied up for a good five minutes, still cursing himself while he did so. He couldn't remember how many tokens Rory had been left with after their trips the day before... He shook his head. She was an adult, why was he so worried? Maybe she didn't even call him.

Once his Razr was back on, Jess found that the screen boasted three text messages and one phone call, all from Rory. Fantastic.

 **[from Rory]** :  _Tried calling, you're probably busy. Call when you can._

 **[from Rory]** :  _So, I'm sitting in a Starbucks right now. There's a woman with two laptops and an absolutely ridiculous amount of highlighters. She's either very important or imagines herself to be._

 **[from Rory]** :  _Update. She's writing a screenplay._

All three text had come in twenty minute intervals, starting at 1:37. The interview and subsequent phone calls must have passed more quickly than Rory had estimated. Hopefully that was a good thing.

 **[to Rory]** :  _Sorry, I got distracted by work. I can come pick you up as soon as you're ready to leave._

He wanted to run down to his car and drive back toward the place he'd left Rory earlier, but he knew that there was a slim chance she was still waiting around for him there. Maybe she'd gone shopping again. Or maybe she was still in the Starbucks she'd found, going over the play-by-play of the interview the way that a football coach watched the instant replay to find flaws in form. Instead of worrying himself or wandering the streets to search for a fully capable adult, Jess slumped back into his desk chair and fiddled with his phone. Maybe he could beat his high-score on Space Invaders while he waited.

No, he wouldn't waste the time that he had in the office. He was going to ignore work for the greater part of the day ad he had to be efficient while he could. At least now, he would have his ringer on. Jess's efficiency was hampered by the fact that he was glancing at his cellphone once every minute or so. Despite that fact, he managed to finish his third read-through of a short story on his desk, sliding the corrected version into a pre-addressed manila envelope and then dropping it into the office outbox all within twenty-three minutes.

Jess was celebrating the small achievement by organizing the piles of paper on his cluttered desk when he heard the office door open. A moment later, Louis stepped out of the 4x4 "lobby" area accompanied by a young woman dusted with a thin layer of snow.

"Hey, I thought I was supposed to pick you up," Jess said, standing so that he could meet Rory and Louis by the door.

"Oh, you were. But I figured you were too busy to check your phone, so I just took the metro. I got a little lost on the way here from the station, but it turned out that I asked the right person for directions," Rory explained, taking off her gloves before jabbing her thumb in Louis's general direction.

"Yeah, I found her two blocks down," Louis agreed, walking toward his desk so that he could sort through a folder left on top of his inbox.

"And I would have frozen into a popsicle if he hadn't walked by when he did," Rory laughed, unwrapping her scarf to reveal the redness in her cheeks. She did look half-frozen. Jess felt guiltly.

"Well, do you want some cocoa? Coffee?" Jess asked, stepping back toward the kitchen. Rory waved her hand to stop him.

"No, I've had a lot of coffee. If I have anymore I'm going to turn into my mother," Rory joked, finally taking a moment to look around the office space. This was the first time she'd been there while the desks were in place. The last time, a time that neither of them seemed eager to discuss, the desks had all been squished into both the kitchen and the weirdly large closet that they kept their bikes in when the weather was warm.

"We should head out, then. There's supposed to be a few inches of snow coming down within the next few hours and I don't want to get stuck with people who don't know how to handle the weather," Jess said, going back to grab some things from his desk before leaving. Taking his bag from the floor, he packed away his cellphone, a small folder of work, and his portable calendar before shrugging on his quilted coat. "You can tell me all about the interview on the way home."

"Don't you have a winter jacket that's better than that?" Rory asked, "You lived in New York for years."

"Then I moved to California," he reminded her, his gut wincing at the fact that he'd said it so nonchalantly. Rory didn't seem to mind, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention toward Louis.

"Thanks again, by the way. Did I ever ask your name?" Rory crossed the room, hand outstretched for Louis to shake. He looked up from the papers in his hands, surprised to find her speaking to him. He often was far too engrossed in his work to really hear what anyone had to say to him.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'm Louis," he responded, shaking her hand.

"Rory," she responded with a smile.

Through some sort of luck, Rory had managed to turn her head just in time to miss the moment of realization on Louis's face. His head swiveled toward Jess, an eyebrow cocked. Jess supposed that up until that moment, he hadn't put much thought into who Rory was. He definitely hadn't been paying attention to any dropped clues as to who Rory was up until that moment, but Jess saw the gears turning behind his eyes.

Not only was this Rory, the Rory that had come to their open house and put him into what Gen called "a mood" for almost a solid month, Louis was working his way back through their conversation and realizing that this was Lorelai. Lorelai, the author. Lorelai, the supposed wife of his uncle Luke. Lorelai, the woman he had pulled strings to get an interview for.

Without breaking eye contact, Jess subtly shook his head. He would most definitely hear about the deception later, that even though he didn't explicitly tell them which Lorelai he was hosting for the weekend, he had never actually told anyone that there were two Lorelais. The only Lorelai that Jess's Truncheon family was explicitly aware of was the one that had a history of dissatisfaction with his character.

Not a moment later than necessary, Jess was muttering a quick goodbye and ushering Rory out to find his car.

He could feel his cellphone buzzing through his bag, alerting him to a quick series of incoming text messages.

-

"I just want you to know that this is the first and only time that Indian food will be entering this apartment," Jess said, kicking the door shut on his way to the kitchen. "And the only reason it's here now is because you crushed your interview."

Rory rolled her eyes good-naturedly . "They still have to like what I've written. I bet at least one out of the other four had a good interview." Ever the realist, Rory was. Jess knew that even if she did sound calm and measured about her very real possibility of getting a dream job, she couldn't hide the shine in her eyes or the bounce in her step. While she was fishing her food out of the large paper bag, he could see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"I'll put away my pom-poms for now, but I can't promise that Luke will do the same," Jess teased, picking out the dish he'd ordered once Rory was moving back toward the couch.

"What do you know about Luke's pom-poms?" Rory asked, dragging a blanket over her curled up legs before digging into what looked like the butter chicken.

Jess whistled. "You don't know Luke Danes, do you?" Jess asked, ripping off a few paper towels before joining her in the living room. He sat on the ground by the couch, opening his container to eat. "He texted me a little while ago asking if you were over exaggerating how well it went to make your mother happy. When I told him that you killed it he sounded like he was going to break into song."

"That would be very Snow White of him," Rory murmured, swallowing a mouthful of food before reaching for the remote.

"I dunno. If I had to choose a princess for Luke, I'd choose Mulan for him," Jess shrugged.

"Mulan's not even really a princess, though."

"Yeah, but she's on the official list. And he's just as stubborn as she is."

Rory shrugged, conceding to his judgement. Instead of focusing on the casting of Luke as a Disney princess, she focused on sorting through the droves of reruns and half finished movies. For a solid three minutes, they argued whether it would be better to watch The Room or Ishtar and eventually settled that while both were incredibly bad movies, settling on the latest Hallmark movie. As expected, it was about a woman who moves to a small town to help her father's struggling business and ends up abandoning her crazy-successful job for an incredibly dull real life Ken doll. They could both agree that it would be better at getting them in the Christmas spirit. Plus, they didn't mind missing a few lines of dialogue while they were complaining about the shaky plot.

"I just can't see anyone with half a brain leaving a penthouse on Central Park West to live in a two bedroom fixer-upper," Jess insisted.

"You're telling me that you wouldn't ask the bananas-rich woman you fell in completely in love with over the course of thirty-six hours to move in with you?"

"Not a chance!" Jess laughed, stealing a pillow from under Rory's feet so that he could shove it between his back and the couch. When Rory whined at the change, he turned again to fluff the pillow she had left. Rory nodded to him, waving for him to continue talking. "If I had the luck to trick a woman that smart and successful into thinking she was in love with me, I wouldn't ask her for anything. Except maybe a new stereo for my car."

Rory snorted, rolling her eyes at the joke. "She's an executive, right? The youngest something or other at her nondescript company? There's no way she's giving that up to do different nondescript work in a town less exciting than Stars Hollow."

"Is it less exciting though?"

"Are you kidding?" Rory asked, sitting up as though what she had to say was very important. "We're finally down to the last two possibilities for Kirk's big proposal; he's having people call his mom to vote on whether a new short film or a troop of skydivers in jumpsuits that spell 'Lulu, will you marry me?' falling from the sky on her birthday."

"Is it bad that I'd really like the skydivers to win?"

"It's what I voted for," Rory admitted, shrugging. "I figure the rest of the town will balance me out. And even if they don't, I don't see Kirk being able to afford hiring twenty skydivers."

"I guess that's what they mean when they say "small town charm", huh?"

"We are a charming bunch," Rory confirmed.

"Not for long," Jess reminded her, a grin spreading on his face.

"Again, we don't know that I got the job."

"Maybe you didn't," Jess agreed, "But, even if that's true, you'll get another job at another big paper and you'll kick ass in a different city. Doesn't have to be Philadelphia. You could intern for the Tribune or the Herald or even take another shot at the Times. Any of them would be lucky to have you."

After a few seconds of silence, Jess turned from the television to see whether or not Rory had really been listening. He didn't think it was possible that she was caught up in the swell of the copyright free romantic music, but maybe she hadn't even taken in the words of encouragement he'd offered. The way she worried the edge of the blanket betrayed the relatively calm and unaffected look on her face. Something he had said made her anxious.

"What's wrong?"

Rory looked down at him, her expression still unmoved. "I'm just not sure that I want to go to New York right now."

"Why not?" Jess wondered, turning his body from the TV to give her concerns his unfettered attention.

"Well... I love New York. The whole culture is amazing and intoxicating and I think that it would be great to be able to stay there. It's just that - don't take this wrong, but it's too close to home." The look on her face read like she expected Jess to protest or point out that she usually loved being around family, nearly surprised when he didn't move to speak. "I love my grandparents and my mother and my brother. I love the whole Stars Hollow, really. I just don't want to be able to rely on it as a safety net. I don't want to have a bad day and drive home to cry to my mother. I definitely don't want to tell my grandparents when something goes wrong, either. I can only imagine the mighty Richard Gilmore telling some editor that he should be 'proud to have a Gilmore in their midst'."

"It's nice that they would go to bat for you though, isn't it?" Jess suggested, disliking the anxiety sketched into her diamond blue eyes.

"Yeah, of course it's nice. They're nice. I've used a lot of the support they offered me in the past and that's the problem. I don't want to have a bad day at work and go back to living in the pool house or working for the DAR. New York is only about two hours from home and if I stay that close... I dunno. Maybe I'm being over-paranoid. I just want to make sure that no one can say I'm not standing on my own two feet," Rory finished.

There was a swell in Jess's chest, his pride in her personal advancements warming him. It wasn't all that long ago that she'd been dropped out of Yale and now she was ready to at least try and take on the world.

"If you do end up moving to Philly, I can show you all the cool spots. And the tourist traps, if you really want," he indulged, knowing full well that Rory would want to go see all the historical sites. She was persistently and charmingly academic. He imagined that, once he got over the fact that Jess had lead him to believe she was a forty year old that had recently had a baby, Louis would really like her.

For a breath, Jess's rib cage felt harshly tight.

To know that Louis might see exactly what drew Jess's attention... Well, it was a nasty realization that there was a difference between not longing for someone and being comfortable watching them fall for one of your close friends. To calm himself, Jess pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth while he breathed through the tenderness. He had to actually listen to what Rory was talking about, after all. It's what a good friend would do.

Plus, Louis might already have a girlfriend.

"-plus, I figure that if anyone can figure out if there's a real National Treasure treasure hunt, it's us," Rory said, shooting Jess a conspiratorial wink. "I should know before the fifteenth, so I'll keep you updated. Before I really start making those plans, I should probably focus on finding an apartment. Do you know anybody looking for a roommate?"

"Roommate?" Jess echoed, currently unable to think of a single human being he knew that wasn't in the room with him. "No, I don't. But I haven't really been looking. I'll keep my ear to the ground."

"Good man," Rory nodded, digging into the second dish of food. Jess gave her a smile, the corners feeling rubber-band-tight. He didn't think she would notice, she wasn't particularly focused on looking at him.

This was the first time in a long while that he wished she was. Jess didn't like the feeling.

He would have to manage the whole mess before she came back.

\-----

**Sunday, 12.07.18**

"If I don't end up getting the job, I'll just send the bag back with Luke when he comes up in January," Rory said, pushing the building door open with her hip so that Jess could slip past her. In his hands were the leftover presents and books she'd bought, the ones that couldn't be stuffed into her one suitcase.

"Don't worry about it. Luke gave me a billion of the reusable shopping bags, I can manage to lose the ones that have farm animals," Jess shrugged, stepping into the street to put the bags into the trunk of the waiting cab.

Rory trailed behind, dropping her suitcase next to the two shopping bags and slamming the trunk shut. There was only a breath of pregnant pause before Rory sighed loudly to break it.

"Thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I really owe you big time," Rory beamed, not sure how to take Jess's mostly blank expression. He must have been preoccupied by thoughts, as a return smile spread on his face.

"I wouldn't turn you away. Friends let friends crash on their couch when they're interviewing for a dream job," he responded, stepping onto the curb so that he could beat her to opening the car door. Taking the hint and realizing that he must already be late to work, Rory followed suit.

"It still have to thank you. Not everyone has such a nice couch."

"The couch is fantastic," Jess agreed, again leaving dead air hanging between them. Unsure of what else to say, Rory dove into a quick and unexpected hug, at least judging by the way that Jess responded to it. She could still feel his body heat against her cheek with his coat between them. After his obvious surprise, Jess briefly squeezed her back and the moment was over. She wondered if her cheeks were tinged pink.

"I'll talk to you before Christmas, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, we'll talk," she nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I know about the job- oh!"

Rory felt almost idiotic, thrashing her hand around in her purse in search of the little package. Her gloved fingers dragged over the smooth wrapping paper and she pulled out her present to Jess. The wrapping was poor and crumpled, dancing menorahs decorating the blue and white background.

"Merry Christmas. Wait to open it, alright?" she demanded, sliding into the cab.

"Whatever you say," Jess chuckled, safely pushing the little present into his pocket.

"I'm serious."

"And you seriously have to get going. You have a flight to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," Rory sighed. "I'll text you, alright?"

"I'll respond."

With that, Jess shut the door and stepped away, waving at her through the semi-fogged glass. Sitting at the stop light on that very block, Rory relented to her curiosity and used the passenger side rear view mirror to peak back and watch as Jess unwrapped the present she'd just handed over. She'd expected no less.

Rory couldn't see it, but she knew that the look on his face while he turned his own novel over in his hands was one of bemusement. Then, as she watched him leaf through the copy, she imagined that he was wearing a broad smile.

His gift was the easiest to choose that year. A copy of The Subsect by Jess Mariano, completely and utterly defaced by Rory's own handwriting.

The last margin note was 'Merry Christmas'.

 


	7. Chapter Six: 2009 (pt 1)

**Sunday, 1.12.2009**

The last time Rory got drunk enough to have a hangover was... too long ago to remember while she was hungover. It was around the time she'd graduated. Must have been. Whenever it was, it must have been just far enough in the past for her to forget why drinking that much was a bad idea. The gross mealy-mouthed feeling combined with the dull thudding of a dehydration headache was enough to draw a groan past her lips.

She turned over onto her side, pulling her pillow over her head in an attempt to block out yet another rousing chorus of 'The Wheels on the Bus'. It was an unsuccessful attempt, seeing as she couldn't muster the upper body strength to make the pillow a worthy sound blocking instrument. Another thirty seconds of begging her eyelids to be thicker and Rory conceded to defeat.

Slowly, like she was made of the same goop as The Thing, Rory traversed her bedroom floor. The little light that came past the drawn curtains told her that she needed to brush her hair desperately. She put it up into a messy ponytail instead.

Forcing her forward toward the door, toward the noise of the continuing singing, was the knowledge that she would burn her eyebrows off with this level of morning breath.

In the kitchen, Luke was sat at the round table and feeding Will with green bottle. Lorelai was across the table, her eyes on what looked like a set of expenses that related to the geriatric brawl that had taken place a few day after New Years. Two older gentlemen got into a pushing match and broke quite a few of the nice holiday dishes that Sookie had procured. Even with her eyes scanning the stapled stack of receipts, Lorelai still held the melody of 'Wheels on the Bus'.

The two of them had become the jesters in Will's court the moment the kid crossed the threshold.

Lorelai turned in her chair when she heard Rory's door open, a mile on her face.

"How are you feeling, kid?"

Rory grunted 'fine' and shuffled away to the bathroom to re-make herself. It took about twenty minutes, but when she returned she considered herself less of a swamp monster. Still hungover, but not 'grab your torches and pitchforks' hungover.

"Well, don't you look like a fresh spring daisy?" Lorelai asked, getting down her pen to focus on the badly fake Southern drawl she tried to speak with. "Coffee's made and Luke made you chili fries."

Until Rory was sat with her second cup of coffee, all she could really manage to say back was 'thanks'. By that time, Will was done eating and Luke was pacing back and forth to burp him.

"I didn't think we had that much to drink," Rory mumbled, surprised that her mother was doing so much better than she was.

" _We_  didn't, you did," Lorelai shrugged, packing her papers away into a Dragonfly Inn folder. "I couldn't drink all that much when I'm the one packing lunch."

"We could have done something else if you didn't want to drink. It would probably have saved me a lot of pain."

"Getting a job like that is worth downing a bottle of champagne," Lorelai insisted, standing to tidy after herself. She stopped for a moment to press a kiss to her husband's shoulder when he passed by with their baby boy.

"That's where Is should have stopped," Rory grumbled, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I've really got to start packing."

"I thought you didn't have to be in Philly until halfway through February," Luke said,switching Will to the other shoulder while they paced.

"I don't. I just have so much to take care of. I need an apartment full of things... I can probably get furniture in the city, but everything else has to be taken care of and packed before then," she pointed out.

She had a lot to do.

And she had to call Jess.

 

\-----

 

**Monday, 2.02.2009**

It turns out, Chris was a big fan of The Office. This was revealed by the various items found suspended in Jell-o once those who didn't live above the office came back from their holiday vacations. Jess's statue was incredibly sticky once he finally got it out of the stuff, but compared to the fake cactus that Gen lost in the muck, he felt he'd gotten off easily. Since then, a few of them had formed a coalition to get him back. Most of their ideas were too destruction of property-y, so they'd mostly resolved to stick him with the more irritating participants for the January open house and make him buy a new plant for Gen. Once that was finished, Louis and Jess went to lunch.

There was a rousing conversation on the merits of paper clips versus binder clips, Jess strongly in favor of the latter, before he moved onto something else.

"You know, Gen is convinced you have a girlfriend," Jess revealed, munching on a few fries.

Louis's eyebrow quirked up. "Is that so? What made her think that?"

"Well, she said you've been dressing better. And you got a good haircut."

"You think my haircut is good?"

"Oh, yeah. Totally. I was thinking of asking you out myself before Gen told me about this whole girlfriend thing," Jess laughed.

"Well, don't let that stop you. Especially since I don't have a girlfriend," Louis winked, pointing finger guns at Jess with an expression on his face that made it clear he immediately regretted the hands.

"You'll have a hard time convincing Gen, but I don't think anybody else would bother you about it."

"People might start bothering you soon though," Louis said, his eyes on his food.

"Bothering me?"

"Yes, you, Casanova."

"I'm sorry, Casanova?

"You're the 'hottest in the office' remember? You're always on the phone with Nadia-"

"Which is a part of my job," Jess reminded him.

"We both know that's not all it is," Louis contradicted, shooting Jess a look. Jess rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt. "Plus, you have Lorelai moving to the city soon..."

At that, Jess could feel his ears starting to burn. "She isn't a part of any of that. That's long in the past, trust me."

"I just think you should know that the longer you don't tell everybody which Lorelai is coming to town, the more it'll seem like you have something to hide."

"I don't have anything to hide. I just figured it was easier to let them be wrong than it would be to have conversations like this. I don't really want to defend my friendship with her against people who don't know the whole story."

Louis must have noticed the way the topic was bothering him, judging by the gentler tone of voice he spoke with next. "I'm not judging you. And I'm not going to judge you when she's around. I just think that if you're seriously looking to avoid any weirdness, it doesn't seem smart to keep lying. Everybody's going to be worried about you. I know I am."

Jess groaned quietly, burying his face in his hands for a few seconds, considering how he should reply. His policy up until this moment was similar to the classic 'fake it 'til you make it' strategy, only it included not even acknowledging to himself that he had some sort of lingering, floundering feelings for Rory. Sure, the romantic aspect of their relationship had on its deathbed for years, but it seemed to have a stronger grip than he'd have predicted.

"I know it's stupid," he finally started, looking up at Louis. "There's a lot of baggage and history and a lot of the shit that went wrong was my fault. To be completely honest, I know it would be easier to see her on holidays or when we really couldn't avoid it. But before we were together - really the reason that we got together in the first place is that we actually had something... comfortable. We got along, we were friends. If I'm going to see her for the rest of my life, and I am, I have got to put my eighteen year old bullshit in my rear view mirror."

Jess's long winded speech was met with the sound of Louis trying to suck up the last remnants of his water through a straw, the ice rattling in the cup. Expressing the mostly cohesive description of how he was feeling left Jess almost relieved. He was worried that it wouldn't make sense once he said it. 

Sometimes he worried that he might be fooling himself.

"A conscious effort to move forward is better than a conscious effort not to," Louis finally declared, picking up his own menu.

"Yeah."

"You're still eventually going to have to tell everybody."

"I know," Jess said quietly, slumping back into his seat. "It's going to blow."

"That it will," Louis nodded slowly. "Are you really getting rid of the second couch?"

"Why, do you want it?"

 

\-----

 

**Friday, 2.06.09**

"- You're my lady of the morning. Love shines in your eyes sparkling, clear, and lovely - "

"Will you unplug the stereo, Caesar."

"Caesar, don't touch the stereo - my lady. Lady, turn me on when I'm lonely. Show me all your charms."

Luke slipped past Lorelai with two dinner plates as she snatched up a salt shaker, holding it as her microphone while she continued to follow her husband. She'd been harassing him for the last ten minutes, as soon as the clock struck 7:00 and they were due to be on their date night. Issue was, the diner started to fill up right around 6:45 for the dinner rush and Luke was never one to force Caesar and Lane to do more work than they should have to.

Watching her mother loudly sing Styx in front of half the town made Rory wonder if it was only a matter of time before she went completely insane herself. In twenty years, she and her mother could be the next generation of Miss Patty and Babette, both of whom were thoroughly enjoying the show. At least she'd stopped pelting him with fries.

Up until the last few seconds of the song, Luke had mostly resolved to work around the singing, but once he turned around and almost bowled Lorelai over, he had to address it. Setting down his plates on the counter next to William's car seat and untying his apron.

"Alright, Caesar, we're heading out. You're in charge!" He shouted, shooting Lorelai an exasperated look. "I'm going to get my keys. Please, don't start another song," he begged, kissing Lorelai's forehead before turning to dart up the stairs to the apartment up above.

With that, the music cut down to a much more manageable level and Lorelai took her bow to a smattering of applause before plopping back onto the bar stool next to Rory.

"You know, I should really be spending the night with you two," Lorelai sighed, reaching up to squeeze Will's toes through his bright orange sock. "You're leaving me for forever in less than forty-eight hours."

"Don't go letting Luke hear you say that," Rory chuckled, shaking Will's little rabbit toy to make him smile again. "You've got him this far, don't let him get away."

"C'mon, kid. A few years ago and we would have spent this whole week together. You and me, watching movies and pigging out on junk food. I feel like we've barely gotten our time..."

Rory turned to her mother, taking care not to stop bouncing the stuffed bunny on her brother's lap. "You only had me a few years ago. You have more stuff to take care of now and you aren't likely to have another date night like this any time soon. Plus, we have all of tomorrow together- Luke is dropping Will off with the grandparents, right?"

"Yes," Lorelai pouted, looking at her son's rosy cheeks and bright gummy smile. "It's the first full day that he's spending there. I keep worrying I'll forget something he needs."

"Even if you do, they can buy him a more expensive version. Or send Lance to go get it from Luke," Rory pointed out, wondering if Lance liked the scarf that she'd sent him.

"Well, yes, but -"

"But nothing, woman. You aren't stealing my bonding time with my brother because you're getting cold feet," Rory said, pointing toward Luke when he stepped out from behind the curtain hiding the stairs.

"I do not have cold feet," Lorelai said, standing and sliding into her coat. "Now, would I be terribly intruding on your bonding time if I kissed my babies goodbye?" She teased, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"I suppose not," Rory shrugged, watching her mother lift Will out of his car seat so that she could press kisses to his cheeks. Once Will was passed safely to Luke, she enveloped Rory in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead when they pulled back.

"We'll be home around 9:45. If anything goes wrong, call Sookie and then call me, okay? She knows you two are going to be alone," Lorelai reiterated, glancing back at Luke and the baby. It was nice, Rory noted, to see that a smile grew on her face when she saw the way Luke was whispering conspiratorially to their son.

"The bottle that he'll need is labeled in the fridge. His pajamas are in his crib with a fresh diaper and the diaper cream," Luke added, tugging Will's hat over his little ears.

"Did you put the car seat base in her car?"

"It's strapped in," Luke nodded, letting Lorelai say another goodbye to Will before tucking him snugly into his car seat. "Are we all set?"

"All set," Lorelai smiled, raising up onto her toes to press a kiss to Luke's lips. "Bye, kid."

"Bye, Rory," Luke smiled, stepping to the door so that they could exit before Lorelai found a reason not to.

"Bye, guys!" She called back, watching them walk away until Will made a whining noise. "Where did Bunny get off to?"

Lane, ever the savior, popped up from behind the counter, bunny in hand. "I'll get them one of the straps that I got for Kwan - he loved to toss his toys," She laughed, handing over the toy and continuing on to deliver the sandwich she had in her hand.

 

\-----

 

**Sunday, 2.08.09**

As Lorelai checked the pizza box on the coffee table for any left over slices, she declared, "This sucks."

"What sucks?" Rory asked, slipping her laptop carefully into her carry-on bag.

"Both of my babies, flying the nest. Leaving me to be an old, old maid," she sighed, holding a hand over her heart.

"Old, old maids don't have Lukes," Rory reminded her.

"An old, old maid with a Luke," Lorelai adjusted, coming up behind her adult daughter and draping her arms over her shoulders. "How will I ever survive?"

"Going to work might be the way," Rory said unsympathetically, leaning her bag against the wall and shuffling out of her mother's reach before turning around. "Will is only gone as long as you're at work and I'll see you for your birthday in a month and a half."

"A month in a half? It's forever! How will I know who you are when you come back? I'll open the door and you'll say "hi mom", but I won't believe that you're you because my daughter doesn't have those crow's feet and she definitely doesn't have those grey streaks-"

"Crow's feet and grey streaks? Why do I have crow's feet and grey streaks?"

"You'll be very old in a month and a half."

"If I'm very old, what will you be?" Rory asked, trying to suppress the smile pulling on her lips.

"I'll be just as young and spritely as I am now because I have a Luke."

"You have  _a_  Luke?" Luke asked, jogging down the stairs, his hand safely on the back of Will's head. "I didn't know there were multiples."

"Oh, yeah, babe. We're living in the post-Ford-assembly-line world. All of us are replaceable. Upgradable." Lorelai crossed the room, slipping in front of Luke once he laid a sleepy Will into his car seat. Rory averted her eyes while they shared a quick kiss.

"I dunno if I could find a way to up your grade," Luke murmured at a tone that Rory would not have been able to hear had there been any background noise. "Are you on your way out too?"

"As soon as you're gone and I've found my Miranda boots," Lorelai nodded, stepping back.

"The dark blue ones or the ones with the buckle?"

"Dark blue."

"Behind the bathroom door."

"My hero!" Another kiss and she jogged up the stairs.

Luke turned to Rory when Lorelai was out of sight. "You're ready to go?"

"My other bags are in the car," she nodded, pointing over her shoulder and out the front door.

"Have you gotten a hold of Jess? I know he doesn't wake up all that early," Luke said, bending over William to buckle him into the seat.

"I haven't gotten a text back, but he said that he would make his way to the airport as soon as I hit the runway at PHL. He said he already has the air mattress all blown up."

"Good, good," Luke murmured, patting his pockets for a moment before procuring Bunny the bunny. He held it out to Will, tucking it into the car seat when he found the baby too sleepy. Lorelai came down the stairs wearing a pair of suede ankle boots that went surprisingly well with the skirt that Luke had given her. Over the years, she supposed that Lorelai's style had rubbed off on him a little bit.

"Alright, we're all ready. Go before my heart breaks again," she said dramatically, hugging Rory first and last out of the group before pushing them all out of the front door. As Luke backed out of the driveway, Lorelai waved from beside her Jeep.

The pit of worry in Rory's chest must somehow be from the realization that she actually was leaving. Sure, she'd been gone for almost a full year with the Obama campaign, but this was always her home base. On her weekends off, she came here. For holidays, fro everything, she came back to Stars Hollow. "Home" was always 37 Maple St, Stars Hollow, Connecticut 06492. She didn't actually know Philadelphia's ZIP code. It probably had multiple ZIP codes.

Now, driving past the town square and Miss Patty's dance studio and Doose's Market and Al's Pancake World... well, this was still going to be her hometown. It would always be her hometown. For now at least, it wasn't going to be home.

While Rory waved to Gypsy, her girlfriend, and Kirk, she wondered if a salamander felt this uncomfortable when it shed its skin to grow.

 

-

 

Rory sent a text to Jess once she was in the air above the city, looking down and wondering whether she would enjoy living there. She'd been so sure that she wanted the job, she was still sure. But it was hours from where she wanted to be. 

Her things would find her within the week, Emily and Richard paying to have them sent down once she found her apartment. They were having her car sent down immediately, which would hopefully be with her by the next morning. She could park it in Jess's spot, or so he said. He could park his car at his office as long as she stayed with him and she was determined to make that as short a period a she possibly could. 

In the next three days, Rory was viewing nine apartments. Two the first, four the second, and three the last. She had high hopes for a few of them, though she wasn't entirely in love with the idea of being so desperate for a place to live while she was looking them over. She could forget to check something necessary. Because of that worry, she'd created forms for easier comparison, things that she would fill out as she explored the apartments. 

Jess said that he could come to half of the second day's apartments and one of the third's. If she wanted him.

Once on the ground, Rory got herself a late lunch at a Smashburger. It was enough to hold her over until she could manage to pay for dinner, something she'd promised to do for as long as she took up Jess's office floor. 

Gathered with her two suitcases, carry on, and wide pink purse, Rory waited for Jess outside the airport. She was bundled like a survivor despite the vague increase in temperature from Connecticut to Pennsylvania and shivering up until the point that Jess rolled his car up in front of her. Almost forgetting to greet each other, they tossed her bags into his car and took shelter from the late winter air. 

"I thought you were supposed to be in the south," Rory complained, unwrapping her scarf and taking off her hat. 

"I mean, we're south of Connecticut. We're not in the South," Jess laughed, pulling out of the parking spot once he saw that she was buckled up. "Do you want to stop at a McDonald's on the way to the apartment?"

"No, I got a crappy burger before you got here," Rory said, holding her fingers up against the heat. "Some of the stalest bread I've ever had."

"I can imagine it was especially bad after all the gourmet meals you've had in the past few weeks," Jess nodded, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever metal song was playing on the radio. 

"I didn't eat gourmet meals, I mostly ate pizza and diner food."

"You're telling me that Sookie didn't try and fatten you up for the holidays?"

"Alright... well, then I ate pizza, diner food, and a few gourmet meals," Rory conceded, sitting up a little straighter. She'd been stuck sitting all day whether in be in Luke's car, the airport, the plain, or the food court. Now that she was nearing the end of her journey she was starting to feel an odd mixture of antsy and exhausted. She would go on a run if she had the energy (or the personality for it) or to sleep if she didn't. The uncomfortable middle of the road made her feel as though she needed to talk, but as was often the case with Jess, she couldn't think of where to start. 

Their lapse into silence was ended when Jess spoke up again.

"I think we should celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Yes. Celebrate the fact that you have a job writing for a real life newspaper. You're in the big leagues and we should celebrate the way that adults celebrate," Jess nodded.

"I start tomorrow morning, Jess. Plus, I just got over a nasty hangover."

"Celebration doesn't necessarily mean drinking. We could go to a movie or something else that marks the occasion; we can do whatever you want."

Rory mulled it over for a few seconds, weighing her options.

"I'd like to see the Liberty Bell," she decided, knowing that Independence Hall would be too long a wait for so late in the day.

"You're not going to lick it, are you?"

"I already know what pennies taste like," Rory smiled. "I've just never really gotten to see the tourist-y hot spots. I figure it'd be nice to go and see something historical, you know?"

"I showed my mother the Liberty Bell. And Independence Hall. I even showed her the art museum, which was really the only part she enjoyed. Then I went the next day with T.J., who didn't enjoy any of them after about twenty minutes."

"Why did they go separately?" Rory frowned.

"Oh, Doula didn't want to go. She spent the whole trip in the Children's Garden," Jess explained, nodding. 

That was another thing she really liked about talking to Jess, their families were both so similar. Of course, it was technically the same family nowadays, but still. Beyond their mutual appreciation for music, movies, television, they could always talk about family. Eccentric mothers, absent or nearly absent fathers, much younger siblings, and Luke. The older they got, the more it seemed that Luke had played a more fatherly figure than either of their actual fathers (Jimmy did seem to be putting in the effort now and perhaps Christopher would too if Rory found it fit to speak to him more than necessary to stay updated with Gigi). 

The rest of the car trip was spent talking about the ways that Doula was likely to turn out like Rory's younger sister with the way that they were both being spoiled. Thankfully, Georgia was just old enough to understand what was right and what was wrong while actually caring.

"So, we'll just take your things upstairs and then we can go to the Liberty Bell. I think we should just barely make it," Jess nodded, reaching into his backseat to hand Rory one of her suitcases and her carry-on. 

"If we don't make it today, we can make it this weekend, can't we?" Rory asked, heading toward the front door of Jess's building.

"Definitely," Jess nodded, unlocking and opening the door for Rory before going inside himself. 

Jess's apartment was on the third floor, and so they both trudged up the stairs rather than taking the old creaky elevator. No point in wasting young legs.

"Do you have to pay to see the bell?" Rory asked, knowing full well that she only had fifteen dollars cash on hand. 

"I don't think so, but even if you do it's sat right in front of a massive window," Jess informed her.

"If you're outside you don't get to read any of the plaques or listen to the guides."

"You're telling me you don't already know enough about the Liberty Bell?" Jess teased.

"I guess I do, but what's the point of going if you're not going to learn something?" Rory asked, stopping right in front of Jess's door. "You got a door mat," she noticed, reading the black words printed on it: HENRY IV,  _Part I, II, ii_.

"Unbidden guests are often welcomest when they are gone," Jess explained. "It was either that or a skull and crossbones, so I figured that this would be better."

"Well, yes. This is better," Rory agreed, stepping into the apartment once the door was open, making sure to wipe her feet before she did so. The apartment seemed mostly the same, though something seemed different... There were more bits and bobs on the coffee table. Probably a result of his Christmas haul.

"Let's just put the stuff in the spare room and we can head out," Jess prompted, nodding toward his home office. As she stepped across the room, she noticed that his desk had been fit between a bookshelf and a fake plant. He'd also added curtains to the other side of the french doors, she supposed that it would be for the fact that she was possibly staying there for more than the duration of a weekend.

Jess, seeing that her hands were full with her bags and purse, crossed the room to somewhat reluctantly open the door to what... used to be his home office. 

It really was a spare room now.

Where the desk had stood was now a full sized bed with what looked like a new set of blankets and matching pillow cases, though she could see the hint of the Sound of Music sheets peeking out. The couch, which had been pressed under the corner of the big window and had folded out to right about where she was standing, was now replaced by a taller chair that she remembered as the one pushed into the corner for her bed. Beyond the bedside table and the blue and green striped lamp, on the right side of the room, was the now half-empty wall of bookcases. 

"I figured that you'd have a lot of book to shelf. I know you've got a lot of apartments lined up, but I just... I don't know when you're going to move on. Plus, when you do, I'll have a guest room and another shelf for my CDs," Jess said shyly. 

Rory quietly set down her bags on the end of the bed, pressing her tongue tightly to the roof of her mouth. She didn't know how truly nervous she had been until she was there, staring at the hurried attempt at a bedroom made for her, complete with space to shelve her books. 

"Thank you," she said quietly, blinking rapidly before she found it fit to turn back toward Jess. "You can drop that suitcase wherever. We're going to miss the closing, aren't we?" 

"Yeah," Jess said, the smile in his voice reeking of relief. Maybe he'd been worried she wouldn't like it. 

She really, really did.

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter seven: 2009 (part 2)

**Monday, 2.09.09**

Last time she was laying in the spare room previously known as the home office, Rory hadn't noticed the ceiling. Her bedroom at home in Stars Hollow had a popcorn ceiling, the kind that had the drips of paint dried in. When she was younger, she'd pretended that it was a vast mountain range and that her plane went down, stranding her there to survive as a hermit. Sometimes her mother would join her and describe how she would reinvent indoor plumbing and air conditioning, because what was the point of living without modern amenities? 

Jess's ceiling was swirly, like someone tried to smooth it out but gave up. Or maybe they just liked the streaky petaly pattern. 

Normally there was no reason for Rory to care about the ceiling. There was no reason for anyone to care about the ceiling beside maybe the person who gave up smoothing it. But, for the last twenty.... three minutes, Rory had been staring at the ceiling. She'd woken up before her alarm, something on the street having roused her. She might have gotten up when she opened her eyes, but she heard the shower going and she didn't know if Jess went to his bedroom to dress or if he dressed in the bathroom. The immediate train of thought that branched off of that was that she wouldn't really mind seeing him shuffled across the hallways with a towel around his waist, but again she chalked that up to the gesture he'd made to her. 

Thanks to Jess Mariano, she had a made up bedroom on her first night in Philadelphia. Clean sheets that smelled a little bit like pine trees and something floral, an obviously new and very fluffy pillow, and more shelf space than she'd ever had at home. Rory sat up in her bed and looked straight ahead at the french doors, currently covered by dark grey curtains, and listened hard, unsure whether she'd heard Jess leave the bathroom. She'd give it another minute or so.

While she waited, she slipped her feet out from the sheets and planted them on the chilly wood floor, noting that she had to buy slippers. Though, she might have carpeting in her new apartment... 

Rory lifted a suitcase up onto the arm chair in the corner, unzipping it and pulling out the outfit she'd come up with as her 'first day as a real-life adult' outfit. A pair of tan slacks, a mermaid green blouse, and a cardigan over it, that way she seemed professional and comfortable at the same time. Her mother had vetoed the blazer, saying that it seemed like she was trying too hard.

A clinking of plates and the sound of a cupboard door alerted Rory to the fact that Jess was now in the kitchen. She took the time to roll her outfit into her towel, not wanting to forget one or the other. While she might understand the kitchy interest in seeing a damp Jess, she knew that it wasn't anywhere near appropriate to walk through his home with just a towel. 

Her Id's renewed interest in Jess was irritating to Rory. 

The afternoon before, Rory had been tired and a little bit grouchy from traveling. The food she had in the airport did nothing to fill her up after just an hour of activity and she was over-stressed about everything that she had coming up in the next 24 hours. She had been comparing Jess's apartment to a lighthouse in a storm wrecked harbor, the only stability she had for the foreseeable future. Even if he had gotten rid of the surprisingly comfortable pull-out bed, an air mattress was enough to make even Lorelai the second offer words of praise. They were sparse, but still existing. She was already ready to heap 'thank you's and 'how can I help's onto Jess, hoping to be as little of an inconvenience as possible while she slept by his desk. When she'd seen the way he'd made the spare room up for her, pushing it off as something that he'd meant to do anyway... she felt a rush of familiar affection for him. If she'd been more tired or less composed, she might have kissed him.

That feeling, having been immediately bound, locked, and buried so that she could continue looking Jess in the eye while they rushed to see the Liberty Bell, came back with a horrible vengeance while she was trying to go to sleep. It didn't help that even her pillows smelled like him. 

For some time, she was laid there with her eyes squeezed close in an attempt to block out the thoughts that flew to her. He'd made space for her in his life so easily and seamlessly that she wondered whether he had any sort of feelings for her, anything that had persisted even after what she'd done to him at his open house; when she attempted to use him in such a way that made her ill to remember. She gently brushed her lips with her fingertips, remembering how comfortable it had been to kiss him again. That comfort had been comparable to the feeling you get when you read the last page of a long novel, knowing that perhaps everything won't be okay in the future but that it is in that final moment. Standing at the bottom of the long metal staircase, her eyes blurred by tears... Next in her slideshow of fond torture was all of the times they had spent nights in, watching movies and debating plot structure and character development while they tossed popcorn across the couch and stole sips from each other's drinks. After that, the way it had felt when he left to New York, how it felt when she found that he'd come back, and then when he'd left again for the last time. All of the things that he'd done for her and rarely taken credit for; the snow sculpture, the video store, the bid-a-basket, the umbrella, the care package, the sprinklers, the winter carnival, the dinner with her grandparents, the offer to run away together. Eventually the avalanche of memories had pushed her into a deep and dreamless sleep only to continue once she woke up. 

Before she'd turned her attention to the ceiling paint, Rory was being haunted by the echo of Jess's voice.  _I love you_.  _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Then, the sound of his footsteps. His car door slamming shut. His engine turning over.

Her chest ached bitterly. 

She  _thought_ she knew that this resurgence of emotions was down to the fact that, once again, he had done something unbelievably thoughtful. 

When Rory had gotten the courage to ask him why he'd done it, Jess's explanation was that he had been meaning to switch around the room for a while. He'd mentioned that T.J. had whined about feeling the springs of his pull-out mattress. Accepting that would have been easy had Jess been able to meet her eyes.

Maybe the entire idea was stupid. Rory couldn't have been in her right mind when she decided to take up residence down the hall from someone she had, at one point, been sure she would lost her virginity to. She was always aware that it might be weird to stay with him, considering their relationship history, but she had justified the decision by reminding herself that the two of them had made strides toward being friends. The fond feelings that she still held for their past relationship were hanging on to color her impression of the current one, something she could pretend to blame on a younger version of herself. That young-Rory still existed in memories and she didn't want to let go of the first person that she felt truly understood what she expected from her future. That Rory was still holding on.

Roused by her alarm, Rory got up and made her bed. She said a groggy good morning to Jess on her way to the bathroom, happy to be on her way to her first real writing job. Once she was showered, dressed, and made up, Rory returned to the living room with a smile in her face that hid any sort of flip-flopping that her stomach might have done.

Jess was standing over his desk, sorting through a folder, when she set eyes on him.

"Are you headed out?" Rory asked, opening the door to the guest room and picking her purse and work bag off of the ground inside. 

"Yeah, yeah. Do you need a ride?" Jess asked, turning to look at her through the open door. 

"No, I'll be alright. I want to get coffee on my way in, I figure that it'll be good to find my way on the first day," Rory nodded, slipping into her jacket. 

"Alright, sounds good. There's some coffee left if you want any of that for the trip," Jess nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Your key is on the counter, I'll be home around six."

"See you then," Rory said, crossing to the kitchen to take advantage of whatever coffee dregs were left. 

"See you," Jess waved, heading to the door and shutting it behind him. 

Left in the quiet of the apartment, Rory thought maybe she'd overreacted. The ghost of what was between them wasn't going to be allowed to get in between a real friendship that could exist. That did exist.

Just as she'd set her newly-cleaned coffee mug into the dish drainer, her purse started buzzing from the counter. Without bothering to check who it was, Rory sandwiched the phone between her shoulder and her ear, picking up the apartment key and shuffling it onto her own key ring.

"Hello?" She said, focused on the struggle to wiggle the key into place.

"Hey, Ace!"

 

-

 

Rita sure did talk fast. 

Within twenty minutes of arriving, Rory had already written three pages worth of notes and completed her tour of the offices complete with the people that she needed to remember the names of. She planned on taking a picture of the fire escape poster and then making her own reference map for future reference. 

She was being placed in an empty desk in the bullpen, one of four desks in the square. On her right was a pale man in his thirties with an ill-fitted moustache and thick glasses. The left was a guy about her age, so tall that he looked cramped in his desk and aware enough of what came with that that he had a sign on his desk that read 'no, I don't play basketball and yes, the weather is fine'. Liam and Jerry, respectively. Kitty corner from her desk was a woman with severe looking dark green eyes and a pair of neon green headphones. She didn't catch her name, it was said too quickly and Rory didn't think it would be wise to interrupt her work. 

After being introduced to Tonya, the woman that was so pregnant it looked like she might actually pop, Rory was returned to her empty desk, deposited, and told that she would be brought into a pitch meeting in an hour to talk about ideas for her second piece, her first being her interview article. 

The first thing she did at her cool new adult desk with her cool new adult desk phone was call her mother. Obviously.

"Hello? Jeanne Cummings?" Lorelai answered, probably from the front desk of the Dragonfly judging by the time of day.

"Jeanne Cummings? Since when are you expecting a call from Jeanne Cummings?"

"Sorry, you sound like Jeanne Cummings. Is this Maureen Dowd?"

"You know Maureen Dowd?"

"Maureen and I are pen pals, yes. If you're not Jeanne-y and you're not Maureen-y, then you must be Jane Mayer." 

"Alright," Rory laughed. "What alphabetical list are we reading from?"

"Fifty Top Journalists of 2008," Lorelai replied, "There's a lot of male space between the women. That bit couldn't have gone on all that much longer."

"What a pity," Rory rolled her eyes, sandwiching the phone between her shoulder and her ear so that she could start unpacking her things. "Someone should really do something about it."

"The ratio should at least be a little bit better for 2009, seeing as you'll be in the pool."

"I think that the list might be limited to investigative journalism," Rory pointed out, flipping through her list of ideas. She had a handful of ideas, all with comically long titles that had all together too many movie references. "Books are Better When the World Offers the Same Sense of Satisfaction as the End of The Matrix Revolutions", while accurate, does not actually remind her of what she meant to write about. 

"Confidence is key! Fake it 'til you make it!" 

"Now you're just reusing the cheers that you used after my second interview," Rory pointed out. 

"Yeah, well it's not my fault that you need all this reassurance," Lorelai teased, "Your mother should have raised you better."

"I'll tell her you said that," Rory chuckled, taking her newer pad of paper and titling the top sheet 'ideas for the future'. 

"Do, do," Lorelai agreed, taking a breath before she continued, "How's everything going? Are the other kids throwing things and laughing yet?"

"Yet? That doesn't breed much faith," Rory commented. 

"You are a total noob."

"A noob, huh? Well, I've yet to see anything fly toward me or my desk. I'll keep you updated, though."

"Your desk?"

"My desk," Rory confirmed, grinning.

"Oooh! Send pictures! Post cards! Send me a miniature replica with a to-scale Rory so that I can pretend that I saw it in person!" 

"You can see it in person when you come to Philly."

"You don't want to bring your Mommy to work, do you?"

"Just because you wouldn't doesn't mean I wouldn't. I'd even bring your mom to work."

"You might not have a choice."

"What does that mean?" Rory asked, wrinkling her brow.

"I've recently been told that the Gilmores plan on furnishing your new apartment, Hon."

"They already furnished my apartment," Rory said, remembering all the living room furniture they'd bought for her college dorm and then again for the pool house.

"Yes, but that was old Rory's furniture. This is new adult-Rory's apartment and it requires new adult-Rory furniture," Lorelai explained.

"Adult-Rory can re-use furniture. That's the point of sending the U-Haul down here when I'm all set up."

"Yes," Lorelai agreed. "The U-Haul is coming, but it seems that the Gilmores plan on coming with it so that they can see what would fit well in your space."

"When is this supposed to happen?"

"I imagine the caravan is going to be coming with the rest of your things."

Rory set down her pen and leaned back in her chair, chewing on the skin of her cheek while she wondered how to relay what she was thinking.

"Kid? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Rory replied. "I just was wondering if you could delay the caravan for a few weeks?"

"I can try, but it would work better with an easily explainable reason," Lorelai said.

Rory's mind could really only come up with: I'm currently staying with Jess in his spare bedroom that he all-but-definitely only set up for my sake and I'm not sure how long it's going to take to move out, so I'd rather not subject him to the scrutiny of the grandparents. But seeing as I'm not over-motivated by the fact that I'm sleeping on an air mattress, I have the ability to be pickier about where I choose to live. Plus, I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I don't  _want_  to leave the guest room that is making me nervous because I'm not sure if it's because the convenience of the spot, the fact that she's glad to have a roommate she knows and is comfortable with, or because that roommate is specifically  _Jess_.

Her mother never liked Jess.

"I'd like to present myself as a fully put-together adult. I need to find an apartment and move in before I can manage any of that to the satisfaction of one Emily Gilmore."

"These are all fair points," Lorelai agreed. "I'll tell her that you're too busy with work and that you want to settle in, though. They've already subscribed to the Inquirer and are eagerly awaiting your first printed column; they wouldn't want to interfere with your work."

"That's probably better, yes..." She grabbed her pen again and scooted closer to the desk. "I've got to get back to work."

"Alright, Rory. Call me when you get out and tell me how it all went okay?"

"Okay. Say hi to Luke and Will and Lane and Sookie and Michel and Kirk for me. And anyone else I'm forgetting right now."

"Will do. Go get 'em!"

"I'll try. Bye, Mom."

"Bye."

 

\-----

 

**Wednesday, 2.18.09**

Death, it seemed, would not be lightening fast. It would be a slow degeneration. Less of a march toward the end and more of a gentle lazy river type of trip toward nothingness. 

That's where Rory imagined herself, her legs kicked over an inflatable swimming ring while wearing her new bathing suit - the one Emily insisted she needed despite the fact that Philadelphia is not tropical compared to Connecticut -  and holding a mixed drink that had an umbrella and had a brightly colored straw that matched the liquor. She also had a floppy hat that matched her Jackie Kennedy sunglasses. 

This incredibly detailed imagining, which was currently drawn on a bright pink post-it, was her attempt at passing the time while stuck in the depths of writer's block. Her first article, the one she'd written for her interview, was posted on the online Sunday edition of the Inquirer under the finalized title 'The Blood of the Revolution Will Always be Young'. A little heavy for her taste, but she figured that it was more eye catching that way.

The next week, she would be published in an honest to god paper newspaper, the way of the dinosaurs. That article was finished and it discussed the way young women were starting to claim the urban fantasy and scifi genres, the idea of which started with Mary Shelley and Frankenstein in the first place. That was written and being sent through its final round of editing, leaving Rory to fish through suggested topics and local events for some burst of inspiration. How could she already be burnt out when her words hadn't even reached print?

Five o'clock arrived with the attitude of a guest that knew they were late but still expected you to be excited about their arrival, meanwhile your hair was up in curlers and your bra was hanging on the doorknob in the bathroom. That is to say, by the time it got there Rory was less happy than she was aggrieved that it had taken so long. She gathered her things said goodbye to her desk neighbors, Jerry tending to stay far later than anyone else because of the unbelievable volume of his roommates.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was slower than it ever had been, the music coming from some Oldie's playlist, though it was too garbled to be able to really recognize the song playing. It all made her feel far too sluggish for the amount of inactivity she'd been taking part in. 

Her phone buzzed in her purse.

Frustrated by her unproductive day and sure that she would get more than a text in case of emergency, Rory let it be. She was already bundled and she'd have to remove her gloves to respond.

Another buzz. And again.

Maybe Kirk was finally going through with the proposal. It'd been long enough that the originally agreed upon plan was scrapped and re-written. The last update had been concerning Cat Kirk's training for the flash mob and she hadn't gotten enough detail to really understood what that meant. 

Rory forced herself to keep moving, stepping into the slush of late February waiting for her outside. She was motivated to step faster on her way to her car, depositing her purse in the passenger seat once she was inside and fishing out her cellphone to check what the buzzing was about.

**[from Jess]: Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?**

**[from Jess]: There's a weird restaurant I found- made me think of you.**

**[from Jess]: Plus we can do the pro/con thing with the apartments?**

Rory caught herself smiling in her rear view mirror, schooling her face into a mask of impassivity - as though that changed the gentle swell of excitement she'd felt when she read that he'd thought of her. She'd like to go to dinner, but she still had planning she had to finish, she had to call her mother and her grandmother, and she had laundry to do. All of those reasons were in addition to the fact that she knew full well that she shouldn't put herself in the position to cross any lines. 

Jess Mariano would always be a part of her life, he was Luke's nephew and William's cousin. There was no way to avoid him. Because of this there was no more room for mistakes in their relationship, if she let old memories of big feelings overtake her logic, then she would be dooming them to holidays full of carefully planned avoidance. It wasn't worth it, especially not when they had such potential to be friends.

**[to Jess]: I thought you had to stay late and work?**

**[from Jess]: I do, but I'm being dragged out to dinner anyway by a few coworkers. I figured I would invite you to join? There won't be too many of us - probably about five total.**

Was it odd that her skin tingled with relief when she realized they wouldn't be alone? They'd spent most nights that week alone together in the apartment, watching something mindless and sharing a blanket. Just the night before she'd been forcing her feet under him while he sat, much to his displeasure, excusing the action because the journey to go find herself socks would cause her to lose both feet to frostbite before she even got to her room. Perhaps the setting of a restaurant was what made her nervous. To go out together, alone, would be to put themselves in a situation where the only thing there was to focus on was each other. 

She didn't even think that they went to a restaurant together when they were actually together. Not unless Luke's counted.

**[to Jess]: Yeah, I'll come. When are you guys going?**

**[from Jess]: When you get here.**

**[to Jess]: Is it a nice restaurant? Should I change?**

**[from Jess]: Not if you're still wearing the stripey sweater.**

She was still wearing the stripey sweater. 

**[to Jess]: I'll see you soon.**

Her cellphone safely back in her purse, she started up the engine and pulled out of her spot. Instead of allowing herself to second guess anything, she turned the radio up loud enough for people to hear her coming and she ignored the logical choice that she might eventually have to confront what she was trying to ignore. 

It turns out, that choice was incredibly effective. Even letting herself into the offices of Truncheon, she still managed to keep her mind off of things like being haunted by the ghost of a familiar love she had declared the end of years ago.

"I mean, it really did just hit me. I've never heard the end of the joke. I've heard the beginning over and over: 'There once was a man from Nantucket', but I mean... what's the end?" 

Rory muffled a laugh while she stepped over the thresh hold and into the main office, looking across the room to see Jess perched on the edge of his desk and tossing a ball of paper back and forth with a sweater vest wearing guy across the room. Upon noticing her Jess waved, the brief moment of distraction allowing Sweater Vest to bounce the paper ball off of his shoulder.

"Rory, hey," He said, turning to grab his jacket off the desk chair behind him. "Are you ready to go?"

"Hold it, hot shot," A girl said, dramatically turning her chair to survey Rory with the energy one should come to expect from a Bond villain. Her eyebrows were flawless and arched with the same nefarious quality. "Who's this?"

"Leave her alone, Gen," Jess groaned, weaving through the desks to stand by Rory. "You'll have time to interrogate her at dinner."

"I just wanted to introduce myself," Gen pouted, standing to gather her things like the others that were apparently coming to dinner.

"You wanted to embarrass me," Jess corrected.

"Well, a two for one deal is nothing to thumb your nose at," She shrugged, stepping up to Rory with a hand outstretched. "I'm Gen."

"I've heard about you," Rory offered, shaking Gen's hand while she shot a look at Jess. "I'm Rory."

"Well, Rory. I haven't heard much at all about you, but I guess that'll change now," She and Jess shared wry smiles. "I call shotgun in Rory's car," she called loudly, moving toward the door. 

Rory heard a muffled 'dammit' from one of the three guys that were shuffling after Gen to get outside. Rory's bemusement must have been more obvious than she'd thought, judging by the quiet laugh it pulled out of Jess. 

"Don't worry about them. They think they're in one of those 'Look Who's Coming to Dinner' stories," he explained, ushering her back out the door she'd just entered. "You don't have to drive if you don't want people in your car, I'm happy to fall on that sword."

"I'm alright with driving," Rory shrugged, stepping out onto the metal staircase while Jess turned out the lights and locked up behind them. "I just don't think everyone'll fit inside."

"Matt will want to take his own car. It's still shiny and new."

They took the metal stairs together, descending into the chattering group at the bottom. Jess's prediction was right, Matt was the only one not claiming a spot in her relatively small car. Thanking god she'd stuffed her work things into the trunk, Rory watched Chris, Louis, and Jess squish into her backseat before buckling in herself.

During that time, Gen had taken the liberty of sorting through her CD sleeve. 

"You guys listen to a lot of the same stuff," she said, not bothering to look up at Rory while she did so.

"He bought me some of those CDs," Rory shrugged, backing out of her parking space to follow Matthew's car. 

"Yeah?" The tone of Gen's voice almost made Rory want to backtrack, say she'd remembered wrong. It was like she knew Rory'd been second guessing the state of their relationship just by value of having those CDs.

"It was a long time ago. I just take good care of my stuff," She said quickly, flicking the radio on to whatever CD was already in the radio. It turned out to be a mix CD she'd made herself, 'Mood: Sarah Connor", that she liked to play before work. It made her coffee work a little better, she thought. 

Dinner was less stressful than she'd have thought, given the original meeting in the office. While everyone in the group took turns tossing well-meant digs at Jess, implying that he was a Casanova or the bad boy of the Philadelphia publishing circles, it was clear that they were tightly knit. While she was by no means inducted into their friend group, she definitely felt welcomed. There were still inside jokes she wasn't privy to, shop talk that she didn't completely understand, and characters in stories that she couldn't identify. The whole night served to hammer home the idea that, not only had Jess grown up, but he'd made a life for himself.

Aside from the more complicated feelings of infatuation and attraction, things that she was only half sure were just echoes of the past, she felt  _proud_. The boy that had left Stars Hollow, had left her, and never called? He was in pain. Jess never really got into all the details of how he felt about his childhood, but it was clear that he never felt loved the way Rory knew Lorelai loved her. Luke was well intentioned but misguided in his approach to solving such a complicated issue, something that only allowed for Jess to spiral out. The french-fry-thief-karate-chopping-straw-paper-shooting guy sat directly to her left was at the very least content. Rory had seen Jess happy, sure. Their entire relationship would have been much sadder in retrospect if she hadn't, really. Now he was  _content_  with himself, how his life was turning out.

She didn't completely grasp it at that moment, but the unidentifiable feeling swelling just behind her pride was forgiveness. Forgiveness for leaving her and never calling, for saying he loved her and disappearing for the night yet again, and then for showing up and begging her to run away with him... She started to actually forgive him for the tears he'd caused to fall. 

All those bad decisions, all the flailing mistakes, they were done by a kid that was in way over his head. Without that kid making those choices, she wouldn't be sat next to the man that was trying to steal yet another of her fries. 

She swatted his hand away again and answered Louis's question.

"I'd love to go with you. I needed to find something to write about this weekend anyway, why shouldn't be modern Shakespeare?"

 


	9. Chapter eight: 2009 (pt. 3)

**Saturday, 3.28.09**

"Are you sure you don't want to come out with us tonight?" Eartha asked, pointing over her shoulder to the small group of coworkers gathering near the elevator hallway. The entire group was migrating toward a bar a few blocks away, the same place they always went on Saturday night to celebrate the end of the week. It was the beginning and end of every Sunday cycle for those on their floor that were also under the age of twenty-five. The next day, half of them would be hungover and writing the rough rough draft of whatever they had to write for next Sunday. The other half would just be hungover.

"I'm sure," Rory nodded, waving her off with a smile. "I want to get a head start on next week, I've got too much to do between now and then."

"Then I'll just take a shot in your honor," Eartha nodded, patting Rory's shoulder and floating back to the prattling budgies that were the Saturday group. Rory waved them out of view before sitting back in her swivel chair and staring at her desktop monitor. 

She really could have gone out, it probably would have been fun. At the very least, it would have been a celebration of her sixth printed piece. She had officially hit the halfway point of her position at the Inquirer, only six more published pieces left until she had to find another paycheck.

Instead of celebrating the landmark, she was going to be fighting to get the outline of her seventh piece before hobbling back home. The real bright side of the situation was that Jess had offered to make her dinner to celebrate, both of them agreeing that there was only so much take-out that they could afford - financially and physically. He should have been cooking at that very moment.... she wondered how fast he would catch the stove on fire.

It was possible that he wouldn't actually be  _cooking_  anything. She didn't have any idea what he was planning to make, so he could have just decided safely on a salad with fancy cheese. He'd even insisted on buying the groceries for this celebratory dinner, something that Rory had taken over as a duty when it was made clear that she wasn't going to be moving out. 

After a comical amount of apartment walk-throughs, there wasn't a single apartment that Rory could both afford on her own and lease month to month. At least, there wasn't an apartment that fit into those categories and wouldn't give Emily Gilmore an aneurysm. The closest she'd gotten was an apartment that had a creepy landlord that Jess liked to call 'Baby'. Apparently he'd said something about Rory's hair any time she left the room. 

The search for a place to live died down after about two weeks of living with Jess and had come to a complete stop when he pointed out that there was no point in moving in to set up her stuff for a month and then take it all down the next one. She took over the food and the water and split the electricity with him, the rent staying entirely in his name in case the landlord started to have any questions. He described it as taking a vacation from some of his bills.

Plus, when they'd decided to cool it on the take-out, she'd decided to start making use of the box of cookbooks that Sookie sent her as a part of her and Jackson's New Year's cleaning initiative. Actually learning to use an oven and meat thermometer (either Luke or Sookie on the line while she did so) made her start to feel like an actual adult.

Halfway through her outline, unluckily ripping through the peak of 'Creep', her desk phone rang. Groaning quietly, Rory paused the music and picked up the receiver, sandwiching it between her shoulder and her ear so that she could continue penciling in notes on her physical copy.

"Rory Gilmore," She said in the pleasant professional tone that she was mercilessly mocked for by anyone that actually knew her. 

"Wow, Ace. I'd almost believe you were a real professional with a voice like that."

The air inside of her was sucked out by a vacuum, leaving her chest concave and her collar bones jutting sharply. 

"Logan," she managed, her pencil lead leaving little marks every time it bounced up off the desk.

"Is it alright that I called you here? You weren't answering your cell phone and you gave me this one. I'm not interrupting, am I?" His voice was summery and warm and sweet.

"No, you're not," Rory assured him. "I'm just getting ahead right now, nothing special. You?"

"Nothing special," he echoed, "I just wanted to tell you that I'll be in the area soon. This week, actually."

"You're coming to Pennsylvania? Why?" Rory couldn't think of a reason for Logan to come to the Philadelphia area, the Huntzbergers didn't really have a stake in the local news.

"Don't sound so pleased, now," he teased her.

"I don't mean it like that. You know I don't mean it like that. It's just been so long since..."

"Yeah, it has." The swinging axe that was the end of that sentence was hanging above them for a moment. "I'm not coming specifically to Pennsylvania. I've got a few meetings in New York and Honor wanted me to stay with her and her husband while I visit, so I could get away with extending my visit a little longer by saying that I wanted to be around family..." 

There was a pause in his explanation that made her feel that she should be speaking, but she had no idea what she should be saying.

"I was wondering if I could visit you. I wouldn't want to be a burden, I could get a hotel room, we could have dinner, then fly out to New York the next day? That way I'm not in the way too long and we can actually  _see_ each other instead of just texting a few times a month." 

The nervousness that radiated from his voice was familiar and painful. While she wasn't sure that it would be the right choice to go out to dinner together - really, she was pretty sure that it was not the right choice - she couldn't let the opportunity pass her. It'd been hard enough to stay away when she was in California.

"Of course," Rory finally said, looking down at the bite marks that she'd worried into the wood of her pencil. She dropped it into a desk drawer and turned her chair to stare out the window at the big toothpaste billboard nearby. For whatever reason, her entire desk cluster had agreed that it had a stupidly calming effect and she needed more calm. "Yeah. Of course you can visit. When do you think you'll be in the city?"

"Tuesday. Tuesday night, actually. How do you feel about a late dinner?"

"I feel good about a late dinner. I'll buy peanuts to hold me over until we can eat," Rory said, immediately regretting the peanut comment. She didn't even really like peanuts, she could have said granola bars. 

"Peanuts are good. I'll set the reservation."

"You are pretty good at reservations."

"That I am, that I am," Logan laughed, the sound washing over her and bringing back a weird feeling of comfort. She'd always really liked his laugh, it was... citrusy? She couldn't completely explain it.

"So, Tuesday?"

"Tuesday. I'll let you get back to your work, Ace. Looking forward to reading your words tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Rory echoed.

"I get overnight shipping."

"Makes sense."

"That it does, that it does. Bye, Ace."

"Bye... Holy Christ," Rory groaned, dropping her phone and scrubbing her hands over her face. 

Her week was already full, even ignoring the work she needed to do. Kwan and Steve were turning two and, as their absolute favorite aunt, Rory had to buy the best gifts. That included a small package of children's books and, according to Zack, a tent for Kwan and a baby doll for Steve. Beyond that, there was the fact that her mother was visiting her adult apartment for the first time combined with the fact that her adult apartment was Jess's apartment. 

You know, the Jess that Lorelai Gilmore hasn't had a purely positive thing to say about the entire time she'd known him? That Jess. The one that broke Rory up from her first boyfriend and then left her without notice. Twice. That Jess. The one who crashed her car.

According to Jess, she'd been vacuuming a lot. 

Add to all of that the fact that she was going to see Logan for the first time since they broke up.

 

-

 

As soon as Rory got inside she was searching for an Advil. The bottle she kept in her purse for cramps was empty and she couldn't think of a single other place that it would be. She decided that the world was working against her when the bottle she kept in the medicine cabinet was also empty. 

"God dammit- Jess!" She groaned, swinging the medicine cabinet shut and turning around so that she could stomp across the hall to pound on his bedroom door. She was surprised that he didn't have the hearing to match his burgeoning his old-grouch-hood considering the volume at which he listened to his angst rock. "Jess!"

The door flew back to reveal her ruffled-looking roommate. His hair was all fluffed up, he'd definitely been napping. Her irritation with how good he looked that way was a little boost to continue being irrationally upset. 

"Did you use the rest of my Advil?" She asked, shaking the empty bottle at him. 

"Yeah, I did. We're going shopping tomorrow and I didn't think you'd need it for a while," he shrugged, obviously confused. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jess. The real question is: why are you sleeping when you're supposed to be making dinner?" 

"I am making dinner," Jess rolled his eyes, turning back into his bedroom and stepping over the bigger pile of laundry to get to the stereo. "I have a timer set for the chicken that still has... seven minutes and thirteen seconds until I have to check it again, alright? Now, what's your problem?"

"Who says I have a problem? You probably have a problem. I can't even see your floor, Jess!" 

"I'm going through my closet right now, alright? I have considerably less closet space right now," Jess pointed out, slipping past her and walking down the hall to the living room.

"Really? You're complaining about the hall closet again?"

At that, Jess rounded on her, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. "I'm not complaining about anything, Rory! You're the one that's pissed at me! Is this really over Advil, because I can go out and get you some more. But you're going to have to check the chicken."

A moment passed.

"It's not the Advil."

"I didn't think it was the Advil. What's up, Rory?" 

Rory hesitated. "My mom is coming to town."

"I know your mom is coming to town," Jess nodded, pretending that he understood the course of thought.

"And... you guys aren't friends."

Jess scoffed and turned back around, crossing the living room and walking into the kitchen. "That's not going to be a problem."

"How is that not going to be a problem? I'm living in your apartment, Jess. I'm living here and you live here and she's going to be here all weekend and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"You're stressed because you think your mother is going to make me uncomfortable? That's very thoughtful."

"That's not why I'm stressed," Rory rolled her eyes, dropping onto the stool in front of the kitchen island. 

"Then why are you stressed?"

"Because."

Jess threw a look at her over his shoulder, "Because?"

"Work. I just have a lot to do before next Saturday and I have to start really searching for my next thing already," she shrugged, perking up in her seat to watch while he leaned down to check on their food. 

"Yeah, it's a lot of stuff to do. But you've got credentials now, you're official. There's no way you won't get a job at some big paper now. You're already an official reporter."

"That I am," Rory nodded, resting her head on her folded hands. "There are a lot of reporters, oddly enough. They seem to grow on trees."

"Well, Thumbelina, whatever plant you came from, you are one of a kind. Okay? Don't get too worried about it," Jess insisted, leaning over the counter to poke the end of her nose. They stopped for a second. "That was too much, right? It was weird."

"It was weird," Rory agreed. "I wouldn't try it again."

"Yeah. I've never done that before. I'm not doing it again," Jess shook his head, his hand flying to his cellphone when the timer actually went off.  "Beat it."

"Beat it? This is my celebratory dinner," Rory frowned.

"And I have to plate it!" Jess insisted, waving an oven mitt at her. 

"Plate it?" Rory laughed.

"We've been watching a lot of Iron Chef, okay?"

"Alright, fine. I'll go," Rory sighed, holding her hands up and walking to the couch. "This plating had better be phenomenal, Chef Mariano."

"Don't call me Chef Mariano."

"Don't you tell me what to do," Rory called back, dropping into her corner of the couch.

 

\-----

 

**Tuesday, 3.31.09**

 

"No, I'm not hiding from anyone," Rory frowned, taking a moment out of eyeliner application to shoot a look at her phone on the bathroom counter. 

"Then why are you getting ready at work?" Lane asked, clearly raising her eyebrows on the other side of the line.

"Because I don't want to waste the gas going home and back, alright? The restaurant is in the opposite direction and it would be a lot of driving for no reason. Now I can just walk there and then walk back to my car, no gas wasted. I'm being environmentally friendly," Rory insisted.

"Which shoes did you say you were wearing?"

"The dark grey heels."

"And the peach summer dress, right?"

Rory's answer, while immediate, was cautious. She knew Lane too well to not expect the other shoe to drop. "It's the best dress for the heels." 

"And those are your 'fu-'... No, no. I didn't say it. No, I caught myself. You know, it's your night to do bath time, shouldn't they be in the tub by now? Alright, alright... Sorry, Rory."

"Zack is doing bath time?"

"Yeah, Tuesdays are my night off."

"I didn't know moms got nights off."

"He's really kicking ass at this whole counseling thing, Rory. He even got Kirk to make 'Tuesdays are Daddy Days' t-shirts for the kids. Only issue is that Kirk only makes batches of twenty."

"You have twenty?"

"We have thirty-five. He was doing a sale and it ended up being cheaper."

"I mean, whatever works," Rory sighed, moving on to her mascara.

"Yeah. You're getting one for your mom's birthday."

"Fantastic. I needed a shirt that made me look like Daisy Kensington."

"It's already being mailed... Anyway, the dark grey ones are your ' _friend-_ me heels'."

"You could say that..." 

The sound of the other shoe dropping ended up a mixed metaphor in Rory's head, a visual of a boot trodding on newly fallen snow somehow accompanied by the sound of loud breaking glass.

"And you don't want Jess to see you in those heels."

Rory rolled her eyes, more to convince herself than anything else. She'd had to Jason Bourne the dress and heels to her car the night before so that Jess didn't see her walking out of the house with it in the morning. 

"I'm going to end up coming home in the outfit, Lane."

"You are? That's the first I've heard of it." 

"Lane!"

A heavy sigh was heard from the phone, clearly meant to show exasperation. 

"You know I'll support you in whatever you want, right? I always have, I always will. I just want you to remember how it felt when you went-"

"I remember."

"- to see Jess and had to walk away from him for Logan." There was silence, Rory staring at herself dead in the eye. She wanted to say something and end the conversation there, but Lane was right: she had to deal with what she was feeling at some point. She had to figure out what she was feeling at some point. The skeleton in her closet was rattling its bones at her, very much in the style of The Tell-Tale Heart.

"I know. I know the problem, Lane. But the reality is that even if there could be something to this whole Jess-thing, there is something with Logan." 

"You're sure about that?" Lane asked gently, her tone the same one she used to coax the truth out of her boys. Lorelai used to use that tone with her when she would have a second hidden book under her pillow to read after her mother took the decoy book she'd been pretending to read after lights-out.

"I am. I... I can actually see us figuring it out, y'know?" Rory sighed, smoothing her dress in the mirror and turning to see it in profile. "We didn't break up because he couldn't handle a relationship or because he couldn't handle  _me_. We broke up because I wasn't ready to move forward."

"You're ready now?"

Well, that was the question, wasn't it? She and Logan couldn't just start from square one, they knew each other too well. They loved each other too much. 

If she and Logan got back together, would she want to marry him? 

"I don't know yet," Rory's shoulders sagged.

"There's only one way to find out, I guess."

"We don't know what he wants, Lane. For all we know, he could be in a relationship. He could be engaged, it has been almost two years."

"Why would he come to see you if he was engaged?" Lane sounded truly skeptical, sitting comfortably on her couch at home and sipping her wine. Her life seemed so uncomplicated for the time being. Rory wished she had that.

"Why did I go and see Jess?"

There really was no  _good_  answer to that question. They both knew, Lane through second-hand experience, that was a lot of room for complications in Rory's love life.

"You can call me any time. I'll stay up as late as you need me."

"No, it's alright. You should take the battery out of your phone. It's your night off."

"I can take advantage of my husband any time. I want to be here for you."

"Thank you," Rory sighed, a small smile taking her face despite the butterflies in her belly.

"Send me a photo of the completed look. I need to know if I want that dress left to me in your will."

"My mother already has dibs."

"But her boobs are bigger than yours."

"Yeah, Luke doesn't seem to mind the cleavage."

"Gross," Lane laughed.

"I know, I know. I don't think I was meant to hear that last part," Rory said, wrinkling her nose.

"I still want a picture."

"Okay, I'll send you a picture. Have a nice Mom's Night Off."

"Have a nice dinner with your hot rich ex boyfriend."

"Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

 

-

 

The dark grey friend-me heels were not the best choice in footwear for early Spring on the East Coast. Rory nearly twisted her ankle, stepping in a sidewalk pot-hole to avoid a passing biker. Thankfully, she'd been able to catch herself on a nearby news paper box. Less thankfully, that news paper box was sticky.

She ended up at the restaurant eleven minutes early and, because she was wearing a flowy summer dress, she was forced to huddle near the entrance and take advantage of the gusts of warm air that came out when the door opened while she waited for Logan. He'd texted her that he was almost there, always liking to arrive exactly when he said he was going to arrive. He once told Rory that arriving directly on time was like being fashionably late in the business world.

Plus, it pissed his dad off.

Nonetheless, Logan was four minutes early. She didn't know if that was by design and effort or by luck with traffic lights, but she was glad to see him pull up in a shiny rental car. He didn't even really look at the valet when he handed off his keys and took a ticket, his eyes were on Rory. 

His eyes looked  _really_  brown, they made Rory think of barbecue sauce. That made Rory feel like a moron.

"You know," Logan started, stepping up to her with a winning smile on his face. "I was going to meet someone here, but you look far more interesting."

"That's very rude. I'm sure if they heard you say something like that, they wouldn't be very keen on meeting you again," Rory responded, edging toward the door. The wind combined with her cliff-like set of heels made her legs numb and she was happy to escape that.

"You know, you're probably right. And I really would like her to be keen to meet me again." She'd missed the way his eyes sparkled when he was playing a game.

"For now all she's keen to do is get inside."

"Okay, Ace. Let's get inside," he winked, stepping around her to open the door and allow her in. She realized, stepping past him into the house, that she was eye-level with him in those shoes. 

They bantered and teased each other while they waited in line to claim their reservation, falling into a comfortable back and forth that left her feeling like a cat that soaked up the warmth from a windowsill. There was a space that she stepped into when he put his arm around her waist, the proximity to the crook of his shoulder would bring back a completely different Rory. A Rory that didn't really know who she really was, but knew that this was the man that she wanted to be with...

Nothing they said before their entrees arrived was anything of consequence, if someone had asked her about it she would have only been able to say that it was pleasant. He smiled and made her laugh while they admired each other over the tops of shiny plates and sparkling glasses. He was the same Logan that she missed so deeply that somewhere in her mind she knew that the ache would never go away. The kind, thoughtful, intelligent man that she had wondered about forgetting for the sake of comfort... it was made very clear just by looking him in the eye that she would never forget him. 

"Honor is doing well, then?" Rory asked, watching the waitress weave away through the tables. 

"Great, actually. It seems like getting married lifted the fog she was wandering through, she doesn't feel like she has to appease our mother anymore. It makes life easy for me, to be the good kid for once." The wink that followed that reinforced the idea that both of them knew full well that Logan was not ever going to unseat Honor as the golden child, not with the property damage and arrests that he'd garnered in his lifetime. "I think the truth is just that my parents are happy to ignore me as long as I keep showing up at work in a nice suit. If it looks like the Huntzberger flame is being passed on it doesn't matter that I'm also on fire."

"How literary," Rory teased. 

"I've been reading this column for the past few weeks, it's from this tiny little nationally distributed newspaper, and I think that it's made my brain grow to about three times its size."

"I thought your head looked a little big." 

"Oh, wound me not with thine eye," Logan moaned, dramatically holding a hand over his heart. "You look good, Ace. Unfairly good."

"Unfairly good?" Rory puzzled, the comment tugging up the corner of her mouth.

Logan nodded earnestly. "I mean, you always sort of hope that you're the better-looking one after a break up, don't you? And here you are," he waved across the table, "Not even giving me a chance at the title."

A playful heat was blooming in Rory's cheeks to compliment the roll of her eyes. "You look great too, Logan."

"Tell me more," he grinned, leaning forward and resting his head in the palms of his hand. A laugh bubbled from Rory and she instead turned to her meal. 

"I'm not going to overfeed what I know is an insatiable ego," she said, shooting him a faux-scolding look before leaning forward to take her first bite of food.

"So cruel," Logan said, making no attempt to hide a fay smile.

As the dinner continued it was made clear that a lot had changed for both of them while hey were away from each other. Logan was responsible now, at least on week days. He had some actual plans for the future, though it wasn't many, and it seemed like for the first time he wasn't suffering from Peter Pan syndrome. He even had new friends, professional friends that could pull him in the right direction - not that Finn and Colin were unable to stay on the straight and narrow, that just wasn't their function in Logan's life.

Once they'd done a run-through of Logan's life events, passing over the topics of family and work and new friends rather quickly, the conversation turned to Rory. He wanted to know everything, having follow up questions after every follow up question. It was like he was picking up a sequel to his favorite book and devouring the pages as fast he possibly could. Logan had a way of seeming interested in every little thing about her, every day in the life story was part and parcel. His animated expressions and sunbeam smile made the background of a packed restaurant fade to black, the nouveau pendant lamp over their table shining like a spotlight. Logan made her feel like she was the only person in that room.

Once they'd finished their meal and then their desserts, Logan insisted on paying with his company card, the one he was issued for any and all travel expenses. He joked that he could excuse the expensive venue as 'talent scouting' in his write up, especially considering Rory's talent. She snorted.

There was a melancholy hanging over them when it finally came time to leave the restaurant, knowing full well that neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

"Do you want to walk with me? My hotel isn't really that far away; we could have a drink at the bar," Logan suggested, standing and pushing his chair in. 

Rory opened her mouth to accept before looking at her long tan peacoat. It was barely thick enough to keep her warm on her walk to her car, she couldn't imagine the walk if she had to go in the exact opposite direction to get to his hotel.

Logan seemed to read her mind. "You can have my jacket," He offered, holding his charcoal trench coat up, "I've got my suit jacket."

A hesitation later, Rory accepted. "I'll walk you back, but I can't drink. I've got to drive home."

Gleefully, Logan helped her shrug into the long coat, folding hers over his arm and escorting her out. It was then that Rory realized that he'd come in a car, and a nice one at that. It wasn't as if he'd forgotten that himself, so she let it go. She wanted to walk with him just as badly as he wanted to walk with her, there was no need to point it out just like there was no need to mention the arm he had around her waist. She wanted him there.

The pace of their march to the hotel could be blamed on her precarious heels, but she didn't attempt to excuse it. She wanted not to waste the time she could be using to appreciate the time she was sharing with someone she tried so hard not to miss. 

Not wanting to say goodbye was a lot more troublesome than she'd thought it would be. She was sure they would say goodbye at the door of the hotel until they got there, then again in the lobby and again at the elevators. She was still leaning into his arm while they were walking down the long hallway to his room, as though that would delay the inevitable parting of ways.

Finally stood in front of his door, number 928, Rory was faced with her decision, and it was her decision. If she followed him inside, she wouldn't be going home. It would be an admission that she hadn't put her feelings to bed yet, that something was holding on. 

"So," Logan said softly, releasing Rory from his grasp and turning so that he could face her. His slow movements read as though he was trying not to spook her off. "Do you want to come in?"

For a split second, looking at Logan's brilliant face, she saw the future they had between them. They could figure it out, she knew they could. There was a path where she finished her time at the Inquirer and left to California, using her credentials and padded resume to find a job at a paper that he didn't have influence over. She could spend her days writing on the beaches she'd walked last year, she could make her way up the West Coast ladder just as easily if not more so. Then, she could come home to a nice house and a very nice man with copper colored eyes. 

"I can't," Rory breathed, the sound surprising her. It was like someone else spoke for her, she couldn't remember settling on an answer. 

"Okay," Logan nodded, not focusing on the rejection and instead digging in his pocket for his room key. "That's okay. I'll probably just go to sleep anyway. I think my key is in my jacket, though."

"Sorry," Rory said, quickly unbuttoning the jacket so that she could hand it over.

"No, you keep it for now. You've still got to go outside. I'm not leaving until tomorrow, maybe we could have lunch? I could get it back then," Logan suggested, taking the key from Rory once she'd fished it out of his jacket. 

"Yeah, of course," she agreed, taking her jacket from him in return. "I'll text you."

"Good," Logan replied, turning to open his door and step in to keep the door from shutting. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Ace."

"You will." 

The door shut between them and Rory was left standing there, her heartbeat shaking her hands. Without giving herself a moment to regret her choices, she turned and quickly walked through the halls so that she could escape into the cold air. It felt as though she had a bungee cord around her waist, every step pulling it tighter and making harder to take another. 

By the time she did get to her car, Rory slid inside and tore off her heels to throw them into the backseat. While she sat there and waited for the heat to kick in, Rory turned up the collar of Logan's jacket and buried her nose into the wool. After a bit, she wiped her eyes and drove away barefooted. 

She very consciously wanted that moment in the hallway to be the satisfying end to a chapter of her life that was already running too long. The issue was that, in life, chapters were hardly clearly defined. Even when she was pulling into her spot outside of Jess's apartment, when she was gathering her things from the backseat and shoving her feet back into her heels, she still felt the tension of the bungee cord. There was a connection between herself and Logan's hotel door that wove through the city and didn't mind the traffic or buildings. 

Before she headed inside, she laid Logan's jacket over the backseat and slipped into her own. She tiredly trekked through the building until she was at the apartment door. Once inside, she didn't stop to take off her heels again until she was behind her closed bedroom doors. Jess was sat on the couch and she didn't want him to ask any questions about the night, it had been exhausting enough on its own. 

When she did re-emerge, she'd wiped off her make up and put her hair up into a messy ponytail, wearing big plaid pajama pants and a thick sweater and her blue alpaca slippers. She shuffled to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea before going to the couch and kicking Jess's feet off of her side long enough to sit down and cover herself with a blanket. 

They watched a good ten minutes of Bruce Almighty in silence before Jess spoke up.

"How was your date?" 

Rory didn't look away from the television, she didn't want to know if he was looking at her. 

"It was hard."

He let out a little 'hm', adjusting his feet where they rested in her lap. "Sorry."

"It'll be alright," she murmured, relaxing into the cushions behind her. 

 

 

_Author's Note: This story is pro-Logan. He's a good guy, just not right for Rory. I adore him, really. Tell me what you guys think about his characterization/inclusion! I love to read the comments and I reply to every single one! :)_

_-Asleep_

 


	10. Chapter 9: 2009 (pt. 4)

**Thursday, 4.02.09**

In the two days her quasi-date with Logan, Rory had been forced to confront a series of truths:

**1\. She was not going to be getting back together with Logan Huntzberger any time soon.**

After watching the rest of the movie with Jess she'd taken a long shower and collapsed into her bed, if only to stare at the ceiling. She'd imagined calling him and asking if they could make solid plans to go to breakfast or lunch before he left the city, if they could talk about things moving forward. What would she say? What would he say back? 

She'd noticed a light in his eyes, something that must have come with the distance from his father. He was happier than he was in her memories, something that wasn't particularly hard to beat considering the rejected proposal. While she was happy for him and excited to hear about the things he was doing for work, her hindsight made clear that the comfort of being with Logan existed within the bubble of their memories. 

To be with him was to move to California and be 'Logan Huntzberger's girlfriend'. She would find a job on some paper that had nothing to do with the Huntzberger fortune - a feat, with their expansion in the West - and she would still receive special treatment in the hopes of gaining her beau's favor. 

And lastly, the issue of marriage. The reversion she'd gone through just being in his orbit had made her very aware of the ways she'd changed in the last two years. She'd finally branched out and become independent to a certain degree, shit, she lived a few hours from anyone she shared blood with.

Rory wasn't ready to be Logan's girlfriend again and she definitely wasn't ready to be Mrs. Huntzberger, heiress-in-law to a fortune. 

Logan wasn't willing to wait around for her to be ready.

 

**2\. She wasn't going to ignore-away her feelings for Jess (in the near future).**

This was a more abrasive thing to think about; admitting that she had lingering feelings for Jess was similar to scrubbing at her skin with the green part of a dish sponge. 

After all, she was very aware that she was going to have to get out of bed and act as though she didn't feel anything at all. The two of them had finally reached a homeostasis, something so new that the fragility was palpably wafting off of the tone Jess used when he asked about her date. 

The nonchalance in his voice felt so much more meaningful than anything she'd heard before that moment - yet another reason she knew she couldn't choose Logan for the time being, he didn't deserve that from her - and was the focus of almost half of her spiraling thoughts. 

Did he ask her because he was just being kind? Did he ask because he was interested as a friend? Or because she looked stressed? Did his tone only sound different because she wanted it to?

The feelings themselves were negligible up until this point, she told herself. She liked his crooked smile and the way his voice sounded when they were debating the merits of a plot or an author or something equally irrelevant. She thought that the time it took him to do his hair was a little funny, especially now that he'd let it grow out a bit. She had fun bitching about the way that he would burrow his  _freezing_  feet under her legs when he sat on the couch. 

The fondness that she had for him had grown, fed by proximity, but on some level it was only fondness. She'd tried to deny her feelings to stunt the rapid development, but that had only allowed them to grow unchecked and now she was stuck dealing with something that no longer qualified as fondness. Instead of simply over-appreciating their time together, she craved more. 

Letting go of Logan had broken some sort of Jess-related-dam in her mind. The reasoning she came up with was: she must have put a mental block on Jess-feelings to save her relationship with Logan and now that the relationship was placed on the shelf next to Wheezy the penguin and the Magic 8 Ball, the block disintegrated. 

Where she had accepted the gentle drive to look a little better around Jess before, she now was second guessing every outfit, wanting to know what he thought looked better on her. Instead of arguing over possession of the remote, she was more than happy to let him choose the channel. Yes, she still bitched about his icicle-toes being pushed under her legs, but that didn't mean she didn't feel the want to be closer to him more acutely than she had the entire time she'd lived with him. 

All-in-all, she had managed to avoid being completely comfortable with Jess by mere inches, trading in that comfort for an overawareness of everything that he did. 

 

**3\. She was incredibly worried that her mother would catch onto this the moment they make eye contact.**

To call Lorelai Gilmore a socially-savvy woman was to call Stephen Hawking a 'smart dude'. It's true, but it doesn't show the scope of the discussed prowess. 

After the many blunders included in the Dean and Rory saga, Rory had been finding herself keeping only one type of information from her mother: the boy-type information. She didn't want to be the kid that got swept up in foolhardy romance and lost her virginity to a married man. She didn't want to be the girl that got crushed like a soda can and ran away from college to live as a DAR member in the shelter of her grandparents' mansion. Rory wanted to be Rory Gilmore, an established professional that didn't need romance, especially when she had work to do. 

She'd had the same apprehension to see her mother after she'd visited Jess's open house, after the last time they kissed. While, yes, Lorelai might've sensed something was wrong, they never discussed her feelings on the Jess in question in enough depth to be truly honest. Rory never wanted to discuss Jess with her mother, there was no way the woman could be objective.

The tension between Jess and Lorelai was probably the number one reason that she didn't want to give her mother an insight into the developing situation. Even if Rory never told anyone about her feelings, Jess would always be a part of her life. Holidays for the rest of her existence would include Jess, every major event in Luke's life at the very least would have a Jess-related-tint. She couldn't give her mother a reason to see him as an outsider after all of the healing that they'd seemingly managed.

No, instead she would suffer in silence and search for a way out. 

Maybe the only way out was to sit tight and wait until they could, again, go their separate ways. After all, that was the only way their relationship had ever cooled off in the past. If Jess hadn't left Stars Hollow in 2003, they might have never broken up...

 _God_ , that was too much to think about in the moment.

"Green or pink?" Rory shouted at her mirror, a hanger in each worrying hand. She'd tried on both blouses and still couldn't decide, which was very on trend with the way the last few days had gone for Rory. She hadn't been able to make a decision on anything, a very irritating thing on its own when one wasn't meant to be writing opinion pieces for a living.

The response that she was waiting for was hidden behind the chorus of 'Red Hot Moon', drawing an exasperated groan. She paused the music and, standing in front of the mirror again, shouted for confirmation.

".... shoes!" was all she heard. Another groan and she had to cross the room to reach for one of her doors, cracking it open to hear whatever that was meant to be.

"Repeat again?"

" _I said_ , it depends on the shoes," Jess responded, his voice muffled even with the cracked door.

"The nude ones," Rory glanced at the shiny shoes sitting on her bed.

"We're going out after. You're not gonna want heels like that," he reminded her. The responding grumble was a response to the fact that the only decision she'd managed to make was overwritten in next to no time.

"The black flats, then. With the strappy-things."

"Pink."

Rory slid the door shut and returned to where she'd left the shirts, unbuttoning the salmon colored silk blouse and slipping into it. She knew that Jess didn't really care what she was wearing, but he had had to accept that he was a poor-Rory's Lorelai for such advice.

Either way, he was right. The green top was too dark.

She brushed out her hair one last time, adjusting her bangs and pulling a few strands into a neat thin braid down the back as a last minute flourish.

Perfect, she hoped. 

After straightening up, putting away the nude heels and flattening her blankets, Rory slipped out into the living room... only to see Jess trying to shovel Oreos into his mouth over the sink so as not to get his dress shirt covered in cookie crumbs. 

"You do know we have three minutes until we're supposed to be out the door, right?" Rory asked, her eyebrow cocked. 

Jess nodded, picking one last Oreo from the package before sealing it and sliding it over to sit next to the microwave - not where it belonged.

As he walked past her toward the hall, presumably to brush his teeth, Rory collected her cellphone from the coffee table and checked the time. 

"Make that two minutes. And tighten your tie in the mirror."

"Fank-oo maw."

"Don't call me mom," Rory rolled her eyes, moving to stand next to the door while she waited. 

Once Jess had finally emerged from the bathroom, one minute behind schedule, Rory handed him his jacket and opened the door. 

"Do you have my-"

"Keys?" Rory asked, dangling the carabiner off of her index finger. "And I have an extra charger in my purse."

"You're verging on Poppins territory, Rory," Jess laughed, leading her into the hallway and then turning to lock the door behind them. Rory, who had only ever enjoyed the movie for the chimney sweep sequences and the book for its window into a time period, did not understand the reference for once. "You know? With the tape measure? No?... Disappointing," he finally sighed, heading to the stairs. 

"I'll re-watch the movie if it's really that important to you," she shrugged, sneaking a glance at him to appreciate the way he'd dressed himself up. She wasn't sure why he'd worn a tie to this open house and not to the last one, but either way she appreciated the effect. Sure, he was wearing it with jeans, but they were still nice jeans. 

The effort was probably to hook a client.

"Eartha might come with us to the bar afterwards, do you think anyone would mind?" Rory asked, breaking the silence.

"Definitely not, we still need a third," Jess grinned, flashing her a smile. The Truncheon bunch had found a trivia night at a local bar- it covered everything from literature to the golden age of television to international politics. Eartha, the girl who sat kitty-corner from her in the cluster of desks she belonged to, was an environmental activist who generally despised the puns that came with her name. She was Jess and Rory's clincher as someone who minored in biochemistry at the University of Toronto. 

Rory and Jess had spent the last few days joking that they'd be banned as a team, like the card counters in Las Vegas.

Rory liked the way that Jess's eyes looked when he felt mischievous. 

 

-

 

"Stop it," Rory hissed, trying not to laugh at the things Louis was whispering to her. She was about ready to push him off his stool, really. He kept discretely pointing at people and joking about how certain guests were like Seinfeld or Popeye or Marmaduke. 

"It's true and you know it," Louis insisted, nodding toward the Marmaduke in question. Rory wouldn't admit it, but he was right. 

"We should be paying attention. We're gonna get in trouble," she hissed, scanning the crowd for Matt or Chris. 

While they were goofing around in the back, there was an artist on the steps reading a passage from their in-progress novel. Jess was stood closer to the front of the group, actively listening as though he were a competent and responsible man with a job. 

"Besides, he doesn't really remind me of Marmaduke," Rory said, trying her best to keep her mouth from moving. "Sure, he's tall and he's got the square face. But he reminds me more of that actor we saw-"

"Claw-dee-ooh?" 

"Claw-dee-ooh," Rory confirmed, suppressing a smirk. Louis snorted so loud that it prompted Rory to jump a little in her seat, prompting a handful of people to look back at them curiously. She smacked Louis's shoulder to make him stop laughing, pursing her lips into an unnatural expression to stop the giggling. 

They'd gone back and seen another Shakespeare play, Much Ado About Nothing. The actor had god awful pronunciation, the worst being the way he pronounced 'Claudio'. The two of them had been trying to emulate whatever accent it was for almost a week. It was irritating to most of the people that weren't the two of them.

As the final reading came to a close, Louis and Rory had to separate so that they wouldn't ruin the author's moment. Instead, Rory planted herself by the picked apart carcass of the snack table. As all baked goods and sandwiches were gone, Rory took the time to gorge herself on baby carrots until the room started to applaud the end of the reading. 

"What's up, Doc?" Rory looked up to see Jess leaning against the table with his arms crossed. 

"Just lining my stomach. We don't know the trivia to booze ratio of the night yet," Rory explained, holding up a baby carrot. 

"Yeah, yeah. We've still got at least a half hour before we get to leave, Matt's psyching himself up to do the 'thank you for coming' speech right now," Jess said, nodding toward the spot by the stairs where Matt was shifting from foot to foot like a boxer getting a pep talk. 

They listened to the beginning of the speech in near silence, only the crunching of carrots between them. 

"What was so funny?" 

Rory tore her eyes away from Matt, having been tracing the patterns in his sweater instead of really listening. "I'm sorry?"

"With you and Louis," Jess said, nodding toward his scruffy friend, still sitting next to Rory's empty stool. "What was so funny?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Rory said, reaching out to fix the collar of Jess's shirt before she could think to stop herself. "I didn't realize that you heard that. It was just an inside joke from those plays we went to go see?" 

"Hmm." He looked back up at the makeshift stage. She wondered for a moment whether he was upset with her for something, maybe being too loud or disruptive. He was pretty serious about the night, after all. Someone important had to be there, judging by the tie he was wearing.

"Do you think I could nail Matt in the chest with a baby carrot?"

 

- 

 

"Do you think we could do it all the way down the staircase?" Gen asked, looking up to Rory. Even with her heels on, she was only up to Rory's shoulder. 

"If he has his glasses on," Rory nodded, handing her another grape. 

The two of them had been taking turns throwing grapes for Tim, one of the Truncheon coworkers that worked mostly from home. He was surprisingly good at catching the grapes, he'd even managed to catch a few of the poorly thrown ones from Rory. Now that they'd started successfully throwing the span of the office, they had to look for new territory. 

"We probably don't have enough time, do we?" Gen sighed, watching as the last two desks were slid into place by Jess, Matt, and Chris. 

"Probably not," Rory agreed, walking to the coat rack by the door and pulling off her stylish new Emily-approved peacoat. "Are you riding in my car?"

"I was going to ride with Tim. I think you've got Matt and Chris, though," Gen nodded, waving Tim over to her. "We're dropping Louis off at home on the way there."

"Alright, I'll buy your first round," Rory smiled, leaning against the door frame and watching the boys start to slowly migrate toward the door. Jess was trying to explain how he'd managed to do something with a distributor that was impressive, Rory wasn't really tuned into the conversation. She noticed that his tie was loosened. He must have been hot.

"Everyone ready to go?" Rory asked, stepping toward the door. A chorus of confirmation later and Rory lead the group out the door, briefly waiting for Matt on the stairs while he locked up and then continuing to the street. They were dividing into their two car groups, Rory taking Matt, Jess, and Chris in her car (Chris called shotgun) and Louis riding with Tim and Gen, when they were interrupted. 

"Hey, guys. Where're you going?"

They all turned, not dissimilar to a crowd of meerkats, to find Nadia crowded under the awning of the bakery below Truncheon. She looked cold. 

They all murmured their greetings. 

Jess stepped forward. "We're just going to a bar. It's trivia night. Are you alright? Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"Oh, no," She laughed, waving him off. "My ride's just running a little late. My roommate's boyfriend had to jump her car, it's really not a big deal."

"You can wait upstairs if you want, where it's warm?" Jess offered. While Rory agreed that it was probably the kind thing to do, she felt the need to check her phone screen for the time. She really didn't want this to make them late. Nadia said she was fine. 

"No, really. I'm okay. Have fun," she insisted, gently pushing his shoulder. The playful gesture made her intentions clear to Rory, not that she really minded. It's not like she had real stake in Jess, after all. She had a crush. She'd had crushes before. 

"But... wait one sec," Nadia paused, stepping toward Jess and reaching up to grab ahold of his tie. It felt almost too intimate for Rory to watch, instead she turned her head and ended up catching Louis's eyes. They both did the 'widening your eyes slightly to say "did you see that" thing before Rory turned back.

"Alright well... you have my number if you need something, alright?" Jess offered, stepping backwards toward the group.

"That I do. And one day you'll regret giving it to me," Nadia teased. "Goodnight, Jess."

"Goodnight, Nadia."

_Goodnight, Nadia._

 

\-----

 

**Friday, 4.03.09**

"In the name of all that is holy, someone, please, let me into this damned- Oh, thank god."

Lorelai had dropped her bag by the door, stepping past Rory and into the living room of the apartment. 

"Bathroom?"

"Down the hall, last door on the right," Rory advised, leaning over to drag the duffle into the apartment. She'd taken the afternoon away from the office to help her mother settle in, then they planned on going out for dinner and drinks. She figured that they wouldn't be back until eleven at least. She wouldn't have to worry about any interactions with Jess and her mother until the next day. 

By the time Lorelai had returned, Rory had her bag at the foot of her bed. They were planning on sharing the full sized mattress. 

"So," Lorelai said, dropping onto Rory's bed. "Philadelphia. Phil-lay. The City of Brotherly Love. Quaker City. The Big Scrapple. Sorry, yeah. One too many." 

"A few too many."

"Nonetheless, we're in the city. What secrets do you know?"

"Secrets?" Rory laughed. "I've lived here for a month and a half. I don't know any secrets."

"That's exactly what someone who knows secrets would say," Lorelai accused, flopping back on the newly laundered duvet to stretch out. 

"I know where we can get a semi-decent bagel," Rory offered, pulling her hair back. "Does that count as a secret?"

"Outside of a 2-hour New York radius, it might," Lorelai smiled. "I want to go out, enjoy myself. It's the first time in four months that I haven't had to wipe anyone's butt buy my own."

"That is a luxury that you don't think about until you lose it," Rory said.

"You're damn right it is. I love your brother with all my heart, but the kid is a poop machine."

"How do you think Luke is handling being alone?" Rory asked.

"Like a champ," Lorelai nodded. "He got a baby bjorn. He's very excited about it because now he can bring Will to work. Show him the family business, all that fun stuff."

"Very fun stuff."

They rested in their spots, drinking in the calm quiet and the muffled sound of the outside that seeped through the walls.

 

\-----

 

**Saturday, 4.04.09**

They'd spent the morning walking around downtown Philly, buying things they don't really need, and after lunch Rory had been convinced to show Lorelai her little office space. She sat down, took the place in and made many references that made Rory glad to know that her boss wasn't around on Saturdays after two in the afternoon.

 A lot of the references had to do with Rory being a 'working girl'. 

They'd made the last minute decision to stop in a video store to rent a handful of movies for the night: The Godfather, The Godfather II, and The Godfather III, as well as Cool Runnings and Blades of Glory. 

Jess, surprisingly enough, didn't put up a fight when she texted him that the line up had already been decided for the night. Technically, it was his turn to be couch commando. 

"You know, I never actually noticed the oranges," Jess admitted. He was leaning against the right arm of the couch, in his usual spot only more upright than he usually was. Rory had been re-arranged to the center of the couch with her mother on her left, eating Chinese food and communicating all the tidbits she'd told Rory back when she was eleven. 

"Oranges are the smell of death, I'm telling you. It's like my Nana used to say," Lorelai declared, raising her fork like a staff or a scepter. 

"Your Nana? Who is your Nana?" Rory laughed. 

"You know, you know. The one that lives by the crick."

"The crick? When have you ever been anywhere close to a crick?"

"When I visit my Nana I am right next to a crick."

Rory let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jess. He offered a smirk. 

"Did we show you the shirt we got for Luke?" Rory asked, turning toward Jess and raising an eyebrow. She wriggled out of the blanket she had wrapped around her, crossing the room to the bags by the door. A few seconds search and Rory pulled out  cheap white t-shirt that read 'Someone who loves me very much went to Philadelphia and got me this shirt' with a few accompanying cartoons. 

"I think it'll really up his fashion game, don't you?" Lorelai asked, smiling at Rory. 

"Definitely, definitely," Rory nodded, holding it out to Jess. "And what do you think?" 

"I think it's a necessary addition to his wardrobe."

"We have a matching one for William."

"Definitely necessary, then," Jess laughed. 

Rory carefully shoved the shirt back into the bag, making her way back to the couch when her phone buzzed. She knew it was the pizza guy before she pulled it out and checked the number. 

"We got the lazy one," Rory sighed, trekking to the door and sliding her feet into Jess's sneakers. "I'll get the pizza. Don't pause it, I want to get to the explosion faster."

"Yes ma'am." 

"And don't take my blanket," she demanded, her eyes narrowed to accompany her pointed finger. Lorelai tended to hog blankets.

An awkward silence settled over Lorelai and Jess in the moments after 

As she reached for the remote, Lorelai told herself that she did try not to do it. She muted the movie.

"Hey, Jess." He looked at her, clearly apprehensive. She could definitely understand why. "I just... I wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" 

Lorelai shifted her position so that she could face him full-on. She'd run through this speech in her head while she was stuck in traffic the day before. Since then she'd only had time to refine it. 

"I just wanted to say thank you for everything you're doing for her, for Rory. I know you guys are friends and I just... I know I haven't helped that at all in the past. I was protective - over protective, really. And judgmental. You were a kid when you got shipped to Stars Hollow and I know that you must've had a lot going on and... I didn't help. I think I had a hard enough time knowing that Rory was interested in boys, let alone more than one boy being interested in her. And you just didn't seem- well, in some crazy part of my head you didn't seem as safe. And you've never done anything to hurt her, I know that." 

Lorelai felt as though words were spilling out faster than she wanted them to, so she took a breath before she continued.

"Whatever feelings I had, justified or not, were not on you. You were a kid. You didn't deserve to be in some sort of weird feud with someone twice your age and I wanted to let you know that I  _know_  I was  _wrong._  And since you're stuck seeing me on holidays for the rest of time, I thought I should tell you that I have no hard feelings. You're always welcome. So... Yeah. To summarize: thank you for helping Rory and sorry for everything else."

Jess, never the most emotionally predictable, surprised Lorelai with his response. 

"There's no hard feelings on my part either. I'm happy to help a friend," he said, shifting as though he would rather not be having the conversation he was having. "And that's all we are, friends."

"I know," Lorelai agreed, decidedly not noting that she hadn't said anything to the contrary.

Her shoulders lighter, Lorelai unmuted the TV. When Rory came back, she didn't seem to notice the shift in temperature between the two, instead focusing on telling Lorelai and Jess about how she'd negotiated the price down because the pizza was a little cold. 

Rory didn't need to know about their conversation, anyway. She'd see the effects later on.

 


	11. Chapter 10: 2009 (pt. 5)

_**# Author's Note #: Hey, the whole Rory-being-ill thing was pre-planned. I hope y'all are comfortable and hunkered down, I'm sorry if you aren't. Anyway, it occurred to me that I should write a little note saying that she's just got a cold :)** _

-  _ **Asleep**_

* * *

 

**Wednesday, 4.22.09**

"No, he did it again! He did it!" Rory shouted, picking up her beer and taking a sip while her free hand smacked Jess in the chest.

"I saw him do it, geez!" Jess laughed, taking a swig from his drink. "Don't put it down yet, he's gonna get eaten."

"Spoilers!" Rory exclaimed.

"Do not pretend you haven't watched Jurassic Park." Rory pointedly ignored this and instead focused on the massive T-Rex stomping away from it's enclosure and toward the outhouse.

Once the 'blood-sucking lawyer' was snapped up like a Scooby Snack, they let out a cheer that probably pissed off their neighbors at nearly midnight on a weeknight. They'd both had a good week, Rory receiving praise for her column again and Jess deciding to allow a limited re-print of 'The Subsect' due to slightly increased demand. Only problem was that it was a Wednesday and no one else was ready to party.

Thus, a Gremlins drinking game. And a Zoolander drinking game... and a Jurassic Park drinking game.

"Do you think she can taste the difference?" Rory asked, standing and taking the empty beer bottles to the sink.

"Who? What difference?" Jess asked, watching the screen for the next drinking prompt. It came when the little poison dinosaurs were devouring Nedry in his jeep.

"What difference?" Rory laughed, knocking back the last of her beer and returning to the couch with a new one. "I mean the T-Rex. Do you think she can taste the difference between a blood-sucking lawyer and just... some tourist."

"She doesn't actually get to eat anyone but the lawyer."

"Yeah, not in this movie. But a lot of people get eaten by T-Rex in the third movie," Rory pointed out, sitting back down on the couch and taking the half of the blanket that Jess tosses at her.

"Is that the same dinosaur? I thought this one stayed on the island," Jess drank again as the children were in mortal danger for the millionth time - one of the rules of the game.

"Even if it isn't, they eat a lot of people. Probably a blood-sucking lawyer somewhere in California," Rory shrugged.

Jess hummed, remembering the few that he'd encountered in his time there. One liked to come into the library and bitch about not being able to find what he needed after all of his two minutes of searching. "They are around the coast, yeah."

"I think they can taste the difference," Rory declared. "Lawyers are probably more tender. They spend a lot of time inside."

"By that logic, you must be like a slow cooked ham," Jess teased. Rory whined and smacked his knees. "Oh, I'm sorry Croc Dundee, I didn't realize you were such an outdoorsy person."

"I'm not outdoorsy. I like to think of myself as pretty tough, though."

"If I had to choose you or an Eagle Scout for protection, I know which one I'd go for," Jess nodded.

"Thank you," Rory nodded graciously, taking a sip of her beer when Alan explained what an 'herbivore' was to the kids.

The night was comfortable and warm and a little bit too boozy, but it was fun. And they definitely deserved to have some fun after working as hard as they did.

They stayed on the couch through the first Jurassic Park and then most of the second. By then end they'd shifted positions from leaning against their designated arms - Rory on the left, Jess on the right.

After all, having a crush makes people do stupid things. For example, when your crush gets up to go to the bathroom, you might scoot a little closer to the center cushion of the couch. When you return from your own bathroom trip, you might not lay against your arm of the couch, you might sit upright on the corner of your cushion so that you're even closer. Thought you might not do the classic yawn-and-grope move, somehow your arm might find its way to laying on the couch behind them. You aren't touching them, so it doesn't really count.

The stupidest thing is really just that because you're so focused on covertly getting yourself closer to them, inch-by-inch, you probably wouldn't notice if they were doing the exact same thing.

When Jess realized that Rory had passed but her head leaned back on his left wrist (the one on the couch behind her), the only thing between them was a squashed throw pillow. He didn't think to imagine Rory had purposely laid her head there.

 

\-----

 

**Monday, 4.27.09**

"I think I'm dying," The mound of blankets mumbled, shuffling forward so that it could collapse down onto the couch. The eight-step walk from Rory's bedroom had exhausted it.

"Dying?" Jess responded, taking a break from his breakfast to humor Rory. "What's killing you?"

That was a question. Rory had been feeling just fine the night before, she'd had a bit of a headache but that was from wearing a really tight ponytail all day at work.

"My hangover came back," She decided, shuffling her blanket cocoon to let her head out.

"I don't think hangovers have a tendency to resurge," Jess shrugged, shoveling the last bites of egg into his mouth so that he could deposit his plate into the dishwasher. "Are you going to work, then?"

"I have a meeting, I have to go," Rory grumbled, glancing at the time on the cable box. She was awake an hour before her alarm clock. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"That it doesn't," Jess nodded, continuing on with his morning routine. More than half of the mornings, they left the apartment at the same time but on certain mornings, when one of his clients needed him or something was due, Jess left early. She'd find a note on the kitchen counter about how he would grab milk before coming back or that she shouldn't expect him home at the normal time. Sometimes it was a stick figure scene.

She wondered if he'd already left the note.

While she was trying to peer over to the kitchen counter, Jess reemerged from the hallway with a digital thermometer.

"Open your mouth," he directed, uncapping the thermometer and holding it out to her.

"I'm probably fine," Rory said, waving him off.

"You don't want to be the Typhoid Mary of the Philadelphia Inquirer," Jess insisted. She rolled her eyes and wrestled a hand out of her blankets to take the thermometer. She was probably dehydrated or tired or something stupid. She didn't feel particularly warm, really she was frozen.

The thermometer beeped and Jess took it from her mouth, checking the display and then showing it off to her.

"See? A hundred point two. You're sick," He walked the thermometer to the kitchen sink and then started making what looked like a cup of tea. She wasn't much of a tea person, really. Apparently he'd gotten into it recently, one of of his clients had given him a box as a 'thank you' for something or another. She didn't bother calling him off because she didn't want to argue about it, it was too early. Plus it might actually feel nice on her throat.

"I still have to go to work. Rita said that the meeting is about logistics," Rory sighed, tightening her bundle by hugging her knees to her chest.

Jess didn't respond, busy stirring honey into the tea. She watched him bring her the cup and set it on the kitschy coasters she'd bought for the coffee table a week before.

"Do we still have ibuprofen? DayQuil would probably be good too," Jess asked, sitting on the edge of the sofa to slip into his work shoes. He had goofy socks on, the green ones with little golden dragons that he'd gotten from TJ.

"We've got Tylenol, no DayQuil," Rory reported reaching out for her cup of tea. She warmed her fingers on the mug for a moment before taking her first sip. "I'll be fine, though. It's just my throat and a little headache. I'll take some cough drops and be alright. I only really need to be in the office for the meeting, so I won't lick any doorknobs."

"You're still licking doorknobs, Rory? I thought we talked about this," Jess sighed, standing and going to the coat rack to grab his old green jacket. "That's a really gross habit."

"What can I say? The sweet sweet taste of brass and unwashed hands is just unparalleled," She shrugged, watching him over the rim of her mug while he got ready. He looked like he was tired before the day even started... Though, she did remember the living room light still being on when she went to bed.

"Alright, then," Jess nodded, standing at the door with his work bag slung across his body and his keys in hand. "You sure you'll be alright?"

Rory nodded, clearing her throat before she could verbalize her confirmation. "I'll be fine, promise."

"Well, if you really promise," he said, opening the front door. "Try not to spread the plague too far."

And the door swung shut behind him, leaving Rory on the couch in the silence of an empty apartment. The more she woke up, the more she felt the aches weighing her down. It took her twenty minutes to convince herself to stand and gather her things for a shower. By the time she could convince herself to leave the warm foggy bathroom, Rory came back to her room to find her alarm clock pointlessly telling her to wake up. Instead of the snug pants and professional blouse that she was planning on wearing, she instead forced herself into a comfortable thick grey dress. She brushed out her hair and let it lie, not bothering to do any sort of styling beyond a simple thin braid down the back. As long as it didn't look lazy, she didn't much care that it was lazy.

Instead of subjecting her cluster-mates to her disease, Rory set up shop at the kitchen island, working her way through half a box of tissues while she sorted through her notes on the books she'd gathered for her next piece. The local teachers had been trying to broaden the portfolio of books that the Philadelphia high schoolers had to read, choosing more representative works from a more diverse group of authors. One teacher had said that "the girls in my class that don't like books aren't likely to be tempted by yet another book about how sad the Dust Bowl was for men." Though Rory liked the books that she read in high school, she could understand that she was often the outlier, not the rule.

The name of the article was going to be: "The American Classics are Under Attack." It would definitely catch more eyes than something level-headed and reasoned out. Luke liked to call her misleading titles the "set up" for her "left hook" of a thesis.

In a flash of time, Rory found herself shoving her notes, flash drives, and tissue box into her bag before shoving her feet into her shoes, taking care to tuck the fuzzy blue socks down into her shoes. Sure that she had an emergency hairbrush in her car, Rory didn't bother checking her appearance before leaving.

Seeing as she'd stayed home past the usual rush hour, Rory managed to cut her travel time by about ten minutes. She parked and used the extra time to check her make up and re-brush her hair while she worried about what the hell 'logistics' was supposed to mean. Her car kit wasn't doing much to hide the redness in her cheeks.

By the time she got to her desk, she had about five minutes until she was meant to make her way to the conference room. She'd been tempted to walk by 'on her way to the bathroom' and check out who else was in the room besides Rita, but she figured that she could stomach her nerves for the next few minutes.

The only other person at her cluster of desks when she set down her purse was Eartha, jamming out to whatever she was playing through her headphones. Her tight curls were pulled back into a neat bun, as usual, though she seemed to be wearing brighter make up than usual. Rory didn't bother trying to read into that, instead collapsing in her chair and pulling out her work USB. She still had about half an hour left of work to finish her rough draft and she wasn't sure she would want to put in the effort after she left the meeting. She was considering running to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen when her wrist watch started to beep.

Eleven-thirty. She stood and smoothed her dress, taking only her phone and the folder of her published pieces. That's all Rita said that she'd needed.

She swept through the bullpen, wishing she'd brought one of the little plastic tissue packs with her. It turned out that, had she decided to walk by and peer into the big glass windows of the conference room, it wouldn't have made any difference. The blinds were drawn and it would have been impossible to see anything unless she laid on the floor. That tended not to be a good thing.

Rory knocked on the door of the conference room and waited for Rita to tell her to step in before opening the door. At the table was Rita, an incredibly polished woman in a dark purple silk blouse, and an older man with a very shiny head. She offered a polite smile to both of them, stepping forward to shake hands and introduce herself.

The older man stood to shake Rory's hand, replying with his name: "Peter Trell."

"Oh, I know," Rory nodded, setting down her folder and her phone. "I mean, I've seen you around. I think we met once in my first week, but I don't blame you for not remembering."

'Smooth, Rory' she chided herself. Though, Mr. Trell didn't seem upset by her pointing out the lapse in memory, he actually chuckled and sat back down.

"Well, Rory, I'm sorry I forgot you. I had a chance to read a few of your pieces and I've really been impressed."

Rory raised her eyebrows, sitting down in the chair across from him and adjacent to Rita. Rita nodded encouragingly at her.

"We've both been impressed," Rita said, holding her hand out for Rory's folder and then thanking Rory once it had been handed over. She started laying out the articles in a row. It seemed like less than it had in the hallway, laid out in front of her boss and her boss's boss.

"When it was suggested that we hire a complete unknown, even temporarily, I had been worried that it would be unwise. It's not as if we had a shortage of professionally published writers to move toward," Mr. Trell nodded, picking up one of her pieces and gazing over it. "And then your file managed to make it onto our desks despite the fact that the notice we sent out was for 'local talent' only..."

Rory was confounded by that last bit, the 'local talent' part. She had known she was the only one that wasn't originally from Philly back when she was interviewing for the position, but she thought that was just by happenstance. Really, she'd been under the impression that someone had read her New York Times piece and reached out on their own. How else would her story have gotten into their hands?

"... can admit that there seemed to be a level of fate involved," Mr. Trell grinned, as though they were sharing a joke. She returned the smile as convincingly as she could, her headache returning despite the Tylenol she'd taken before coming in. She couldn't get distracted by why her folder was on a desk, she had to focus on focusing.

"Thank you," Rory finally nodded, leaning forward in her seat.

"Well, don't thank us just yet," Mr. Trell said, turning his head toward Rita. She picked up with the conversation like they'd rehearsed their delivery.

"As you know, Tonya is coming back from her maternity leave next Monday, making this Sunday your official final day," Rita started, sitting up like she was excited for what was happening next. "But we were wondering if you were interested in a longer-term position."

Rory blinked, considering for a moment that she wasn't understanding what was being said. She hadn't heard a whisper of anything indicating she would be offered a position at the paper.

"An internship?" Rory asked, considering the fact that she was about the age of a good portion of the interns in the building. She hadn't yet heard back from the places she'd put in her application yet and she could definitely do with a sure thing, even if it was just an internship.

Both of the people across from her laughed like she was truly delightful.

"Of course not," Rita smiled. "No, we would be offering you a column. Not the same one, of course, that is still Tonya's place in the paper. However, in the last few years we have been trying to establish a wider online presence, changing times and all that, and we believe that there is a place for you in our online edition of the Inquirer."

Rory felt shell-shocked, completely knocked off-balance by the offer. She imagined that some of that was due to the illness, but one way or another... there she was. Rory Gilmore was sat in front of two very important people with her mouth open like a wall-mounted Billy Bass.

"I'll take the aghast silence as an excuse to continue," Mr. Trell nodded, his voice sliding from 'fun grandpa' to 'business man'. "We've noticed that opinion pieces have been doing very well online and that, combined with the impending end of your employment here, we want to offer you the opportunity to write a weekly opinion piece online about the goings-on inside Philadelphia. Mind you, it wouldn't be a political column, but you wouldn't be prohibited from dipping your toe into that pool as you have been with your previous pieces. Or your piece for the Globe, for that matter."

Rory thankfully hadn't burst out in some sort of embarrassing display of excitement and thanks yet, one of the more positive aspects of fatigue. But once the question was asked again, the 'are you interested in being an employee for the long-term in a way that would give you a rocket ship up the ladder of professional journalism' question, Rory was ready.

"I am incredibly interested," Rory said, "I'm honored that you would consider me for a position like this. If I can accept right now, I would really like to."

Now, that wasn't the end of the meeting. They talked a lot about how Rory saw her online column going and how they wanted her to inject it with 'youth' and 'passion' and other buzzwords. They talked about the fact that her pay would be the same and that she would stay in her desk in the bullpen. They talked about getting her a permanent building pass and parking lot pass.

Really, the only thing that you need to know is that she got the job.

By the time Jess came home, after five, Rory was passed out under the same lump of blankets on her side of the couch as though she hadn't moved all day. If he didn't see her toes peeking out of the blankets, he wouldn't have been sure that the lump actually contained his roommate.

Rory didn't stir until his last trip in from the hallway, the gentle rustling of plastic grocery bags pulling her out of a dreamless sleep. She peeled back the blankets and looked out at Jess while he leaned down to load the fridge with food. While she still could, Rory stole away down the hallway as gracefully as she could manage.

Her mouth tasted terrible and her hair was... well, not as bad as she'd expected. Especially not after sleeping all day.

Rory had left the building immediately after her meeting, too excited to call her mother and give her the good news. Of course, this meant that she wouldn't be staying with her mother and Luke while she searched for another job, but even Lorelai didn't sound too disappointed. The only reason she had to leave the phone call was so that she could clean the mud off of Will when he and Luke came home from a rowboat trip on the lake behind the high school. Luke had been teaching him to fish with a velcro fishing hook and pool toys. Seeing as Will was stuck in a baby bjorn the whole time, it was more Luke struggling to catch pool toys with a velcro fishing hook.

The call was the only thing she managed to do before she was hit by a wave of exhaustion. She crawled back home and had been going through nap after nap, only broken by the need for a glass of water every once in a while. She was still wearing her grey dress.

When she emerged from the bathroom, her hair was put up into a loose bun and her smeared make up was completely washed away. Her breath was minty-fresh too.

"Behold, the thing that sleeps a lot," Jess announced, sorting out a few packages on the island. She waved him off and sat at the stool on the end, resting her chin in her hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Rory yawned. Her headache was gone and her body didn't feel as run down as it had before. She was much better than she was when she got home at least. She was actually hungry.

"Good," Jess nodded, putting away the last of whatever he'd gotten and then returning to the counter with a glass of orange juice and a little packet of Emergen-C for her to drink. "How did the meeting go? Lots of logistics?"

Rory took a sip of her drink before responding. "You wouldn't believe the amount of logistics they can fit into one meeting."

"I'll bet."

"It went well. Took longer than I thought it would, but they talked about next week and how it would work and basically told me that I couldn't work anywhere else after that."

Jess eyebrows shot up like she'd poked him with something sharp. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I signed a contract and I have to work for them for the rest of the year." Rory had tried to deliver the line coolly, but she couldn't stop the grin from overtaking her face.

Jess looked almost as shocked as she had in the meeting, but he seemed to recover faster.

"Rory, that's awesome!" He exclaimed. It hit Rory that he never really said 'awesome'. A flash of Jess in board shorts and carrying a surfboard flashed across her mind's eye and she suppressed a giggle. He'd picked up some of California and brought it back to the east coast.

"It is pretty awesome," Rory agreed. She proceeded to give a quick run-down of what she was being offered and she could sense that Jess, if he was any more of an emotional guy, would have given her a bear hug. She could manage to get along with just the enthusiasm he was radiating.

"How do you want to celebrate? We can go out for drinks and tell everybody if you want. Or maybe we could have people over?" Jess asked, searching his pockets for his cellphone.

"I think I want it to just be us." Rory could tell that hit Jess's ears in a way that she didn't mean for it to, so she hurriedly continued, "I just mean that I'm feeling better but I'm not all the way better. Plus, it's a Monday. So... let's just wait for the weekend? We can turn the going-away-drinking into here-to-stay drinking?"

Jess nodded, his face relaxing like he was maybe relieved? She wasn't sure. Either way, she hadn't meant to make it sound like she was looking for some sort of intimate quality time, she just couldn't be bothered to look nice enough to see people she didn't live with.

"How about I pay for take out tonight and you can choose all the movies, no vetos?" Jess offered, going to the fridge to get himself a drink now that he was over his initial excitement.

"No vetos?" Rory repeated.

"Not even one. You get to choose from now 'til we pass out."

"That's only until nine if we judge by the trend," Rory teased.

"I do not go to bed at nine."

"Alright, old man. Whatever you say," Rory sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You do realize what no vetos means for you, right?"

"I'm not a moron. Legally Blonde and Mean Girls have been standing at the threshold of this apartment since you moved in," Jess sighed, leaning on the counter and shooting her a fake-pained look.

"Just because movies are pink doesn't mean they're bad," Rory said, reaching out to pat his arm with little sympathy. "You'll survive."

"So you say. But do you know a single guy that's survived both of those movies back-to-back?"

"Luke."

"But is really alive or is it just a facade?" Jess smirked.

"Trust me, Jess," Rory picked up her glass and traipsed over to the couch. "Before long, you'll be wearing a Santa suit and telling Gretchen Weiners that she has no candy cane-grams."

 

\-----

 

**Saturday, 5.02.2009**

By the end of the week, Rory and Jess had made a few key decisions.

Firstly, Rory had to decide whether to continue packing or put her books back up on the shelves. After all, she was going to be staying in Philadelphia at least until January 2nd. That was a much larger commitment than the twelve weeks they'd agreed to, especially because Jess's landlord still didn't have any idea that she was living there.

After they'd decided that Rory was signing onto the lease, the rest of the decisions had to do with what they had to buy for the party on Saturday. It would have been Friday night as they had previously planned, but seeing as Rory was officially staying in town, she had to make a trip up to Hartford, Connecticut to have a Friday Night Dinner, as was tradition. It seemed a little silly to Jess to drive three and a half hours both ways just to go to dinner, but she was happy to do it. Plus, she came back with a gilded copy of The Second World War by Churchill.

Jess thought he might like Richard Gilmore if they ever met.

The plan was:

1\. Invite people

2\. Drink

Rory and Jess both thought that it was one of their more inspired plans, really.

Their invite list was pretty loose, they had everyone from Truncheon, all of Rory's desk mates, and a few miscellaneous people that either Jess or Rory knew. Everyone else was a guest of a guest.

She hadn't had that much fun since her last Life and Death Brigade event. Even if, near the end of the night, she'd caught a glance of Jess standing in the kitchen and laughing delightedly with a pretty young poet.

 

 

_**Author's Note: My computer is currently broken and with the world the way it is, I can't repair it. This will update a little slower because of that as I am writing on my phone.** _

_**As it is, let me know what you think! I love hearing from people and predictions are my absolute favorite. And let me know if you catch my reference to one of the GG cast members ;)** _


	12. Chapter 11: 2009 (pt 6)

**Thursday, 5.14.2009**

"Well, no," Rory said, sandwiching her cellphone between her shoulder and her cheek so that she could fish in her purse for her key. "I mean, I expected something. You were acting kind of weird."

She pushed into the apartment and crossed to the kitchen island, setting down her work bag and her purse before waving at Jess. He spared her a wave before hunching back over the mess of papers in front of him. Even with a fever of 100°, Jess couldn't just relax for a day.

"You were acting weird, I'm telling you. I thought you were going to tell me something else," Rory laughed, digging through her purse and pulling out a small bag of double chocolate cookies and a bottle of cough medicine. 

"Cherry?" Jess asked, examining the opaque bottle.

"It's all they had," Rory whispered, pushing the cookies across the counter. "To sweeten the deal. Want a rink?" Jess made a face, but took both items from Rory and nodded. 

She turned to the fridge, holding her phone with her shoulder again while she got out the orange juice. "No, it wasn't a bad surprise, it was just a surprise. And I don't think it will change things as drastically as you think it will." 

Within seconds, she had poured Jess a glass and placed it carefully in a spot between the scattered papers.

"I can act normal if you can act normal," Rory scoffed, grabbing her bags and walking across the living room to drop them by her door. "Not a chance in hell. I'm like a lock box in the Titanic, it'd take a submarine full of scientists to get my secrets. Ha, no. Yeah, I'll see you. Bye."

She dropped her phone into her purse before going back to the kitchen. 

"Listen, I know that you don't like the cherry, but it was the only flavor they had. They were totally out of Tylenol, even the generic stuff. Interestingly enough, the cashier told me it was because of the full moon."

"The full moon?" Jess repeated, his mouth half stuffed with cookies. 

"The full moon," Rory nodded, tapping on the bottle of medicine to  _subtly_  tell him to get over the flavor. 

"The full moon was last week," Jess pointed out, clearly avoiding making eye contact with the cough medicine. 

"Interesting. Very interesting."

"I think so," Jess agreed, starting his second cookie. "Who were you talking to?"

Rory hesitated for a moment, running back through what she'd said in front of Jess. No, it was alright.

"Louis, actually." 

"Louis? What secrets does Louis know?" Jess asked.

"What do you mean, secrets?" Rory evaded, going to pour herself a glass of orange juice just so that she could look more casual than she felt. This wasn't exactly her secret to tell.

"C'mon, Rory. I distinctly heard the word 'secret'. And something about submarine scientists, which I find very interesting."

"Listen, this secret is not mine to tell. You'll find out pretty soon, anyway."

Jess nodded slowly, turning his gaze back down to his work. He seemed a little miffed, but it wasn't like Jess to demand information. He probably wouldn't have even had the grumpy expression if he wasn't feverish.

Rory let him stew in what she imagined was a very slight disappointment while she sipped at her juice. 

"I may have found the best bad book in the world, if you're interested."

"The best?" Jess asked, organizing his papers into neater piles. What Rory assumed was the 'to do' list was still pretty sizable. 

"Absolutely the best. Not only does it have vampires, but it also has a very sexual Medusa-type character."

Normally, Rory would have expected Jess to quip about the 'sexual Medusa'. Instead, she got the distinct feeling that he hadn't even heard her description. 

"Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Jess looked up at her, tapping a paper pile on the counter to make it neater. "Yeah, I'm alright. Tired, achey, sick, and alright." He stood and grabbed the last cookie from the bag. "I think I'm gonna go take a nap, okay? I'll clean the kitchen when I wake up if that's alright with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Rory nodded, waving him off. Jess offered a polite smile and turned toward the hallway. "Hey, Jess?"

He turned back to her, an eyebrow raised. She picked up the bottle of cough syrup. 

"Take the medicine with you. Please." 

 _Groan_.

Rory watched Jess disappear down the hallway and listened until his bedroom door was opened and then shut before starting to clean up after him. She remembered him doing her dishes when she had a cold, she figured she owed him the same. 

So, after turning on the Rancid CD they'd been listening to the night before, Rory started on the clean-up duty. Five years ago, she'd have been wading through a foot of laundry and snack wrappers, but seeing as that wasn't the Jess she lived with, she was able to finish the dishes and sweep up any crumbs before she got halfway through the CD. 

The next half she spent perched on a stool, sorting through the possibilities for her next column. It turned out that having a broader choice of options only lead her to feeling more indecisive; her pro/con lists were getting extensive. 

She was seriously weighing whether 'has an unreliable narrator' was a pro or a con when she heard her phone start to buzz from her purse. It was probably her mother, they hadn't spoken in a few days and she was starting to get a little crazy with the matching outfits for Will and Paul Anka. But by the time she'd gotten to her purse, she realized that it wasn't her phone getting incoming messages. She turned toward the couch and started to fish through the cushions, eventually coming up with Jess's cellphone. 

One missed call, two text messages. All from Nadia. Rory felt the urge to open one of the messages and snoop, but the realization that that was a crazy overstep came so fast that it almost gave her whiplash. She quick-stepped down the hallway and knocked on Jess's door, phone facing down to stop the uncomfortable temptation. 

Jess, probably asleep, didn't answer. Rory pushed the cellphone through the gap under his door and retreated down the hallway, her face hot with embarrassment.

Why would she want to look through his messages? That was so  _not like her_  that it made her wonder if she really knew herself. She didn't even have a claim to Jess, let alone his text messages.

The crush she had was maybe getting out of control.

 

\-----

 

**Thursday, 5.21.09**

"Nine letter word for hermaphroditic burrower," Gen called, tapping her pen against the paper in her lap.

"Groundhog?" Jess suggested, tossing another paperclip across the room. He was trying to make one into Louis's drink while he was in the bathroom.\

"No, the second letter is an 'a'," She sighed.

"Aardvark? They burrow, I think," Matt said.

"That's eight letters. And I'm pretty sure they're not hermaphroditic either."

"And groundhogs are?" Matt asked.

"I haven't checked them out yet," Gen muttered, slouching in her chair. Another paperclip bounced off the rim of Louis's coffee cup. "We should be better at this. Our whole job is words."

The guys hummed in agreement. The only sound for the next minute or so was the 'clink' of paperclips and the little fan on Chris's desk and as soon as Louis stepped out of the bathrooms, the paperclips disappeared into Jess's desk drawer.

"What are we on now?" Louis asked, plopping down into his desk chair. 

"Sixteen across, a nine letter word for hermaphroditic burrower."

"Earthworm."

A collective groan of irritation rose from the peanut gallery. Louis was like some weird NYT crossword genius. He started doing them when he was a kid down in Georgia and he was a real ringer. Jess, having grown up in New York, felt almost as though his territory was being threatened. 

He'd never really cared about the crossword before, though. Maybe he was just tired.

While Gen read the next clue ("Aimlessly wandering; unorganized, as aspeech. Eight letters"), Jess took his chance to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He wasn't exactly helping the team effort anyway. 

As he hadn't washed his cup since that morning, Jess was stuck scrubbing out old coffee when Louis came in for his second cup.

"Is Rory going to meet us at the bar or is she coming here?" He asked, snatching up one of the Keurig pods and turning on the little machine. 

"I thought you guys were talking earlier," Jess questioned, turning off the water and setting his cup down. 

"We were. It wasn't about tonight, though," Louis shrugged, turning to the fridge. "Do you have a creamer flavor preference?"

"No." Jess glanced out at the main room, listening to the guesses the group was lobbing. They must have moved on to the next word. "Rory's going to meet us here. She's been having some car trouble; she didn't want to drive any more than she had to."

"Yeah, she told me that her car was making a weird sound."

In the prolonged pause, Jess discovered that the sound the Keurig made when it was done dispensing coffee was more than a little irritating. 

"I invited Nadia to come with us tonight. She's not going to join the team, but she wanted to spectate," Jess revealed, looking down at his empty cup. He could feel the look that Louis was giving him and he didn't really want to have the visual too.

"You guys have been hanging out a lot," Louis noted, moving to the side to dress his coffee. He put so much sugar in that he wasn't sure it would taste like coffee by the end of it. He'd just started putting creamer in his coffee recently, Rory had bought him a chocolate-mint flavor for home.

"Yeah, we have. She's pretty cool." Jess slid his cup into the spot Louis had vacated, starting his own brew. 

"Does Rory know?" The careful tone of Louis's question had implications that Jess wasn't sure he wanted to confront. 

"I haven't hidden the information," Jess crossed his arms over his chest. His coffee was being made slower than Louis's was. He was convinced of it. 

While the coffee maker clicked and whined, Jess found it in himself to make eye contact with Louis. He found the exact 'you're making stupid decisions and I won't outright say it' expression that he'd expected. whatever roadblock Louis was trying to get over in saying what he wanted to say seemed to diminish the longer they stood together. 

"I just think she might want to know."

"And why is that, Louis? Why would Rory care?"

Even Jess recognized that his tone came out a little harsher than he'd meant it to.

"Don't you guys have a 'thing'?" 

Jess snorted and turned back to his coffee cup, watching it lazily fill. 

"We  _had_  a thing. And that was in high school. It's been half a decade, we've both moved on." Jess was surprised at how self-assured the statement was. It definitely didn't take into account the near-miss they'd had when Rory first came to the offices.

Louis's response-expression was most definitely referencing that exact near-miss. Though he wasn't often on the receiving end of Louis's laser-stares, he knew it was best to lay out a crumb of truth than wait for the guy to steal the cookie jar. 

"Listen, it's over between me and Rory. Severely over. We've both wallpapered over that door. And sure, it's not like I'll ever forget what happened with us, but it's just never been the right time and it never will be. She's not just some ex I can fantasize about or something, she's my cousin's sister. It's better to just live and let live." 

He took the creamer from the counter and used that task to avoid Louis's eyes. The fact that the guy was still standing in the kitchen lead Jess to believe he wasn't finished with the conversation yet. Jess definitely was.

"And listen, she set the tone for this whole 'next chapter' shit. She could have gotten married to the last guy she dated- she still might marry him. I'm not gonna wait around for some big storybook ending. There is no full circle, there is no epilogue. The story is over." 

When Jess walked back to his desk, he had the distinct feeling that he'd accomplished a final-line that would have ended the scene in one of the rom-coms that Rory liked to watch.

 

\-----

 

**Friday, 5.22.09**

"Hey, have you seen my water bottle?" Rory called from her room, doing her best to stuff the sleeve of her nice sweater into her suitcase so that she could zip up. 

"Yale or Philadelphia?" 

"Yale. With the blue top," Rory clarified. She shouted her success when the suitcase finally closed, picking it up from her bed and grabbing her purse on her way to the living room. 

"Right here," Jess crossed the room to hand off the water bottle. "I filled it, figured you'd be in a rush."

"Not everyone can wake up early every day like you can," Rory muttered, setting her bags down on the couch so that she could throw her hair up into a messy bun. She took the bottle when she was finished, immediately taking a sip. He'd even added ice. "Thanks. And don't forget the orange chicken in the fridge. I'm not gonna be here to eat it, you can bring it for lunch if you want to."

"Already packed," Jess nodded, patting the back resting on his hip. "Are you really going to go to your grandparent's house dressed like that?" Jess asked, raising an eyebrow at her pink and blue striped pajama pants and over-sized bleach stained Yale sweater. 

"I'm getting ready at home. I didn't even dress like this when I lived in Emily's house," Rory scoffed. 

"Are you sure you don't want coffee?" Jess asked, moving aside so that Rory could grab her sneakers and sit on the arm of the couch to put them on.

"I'm gonna hit a drive-thru when I get on the highway," Rory shrugged. Before she could grab her bags and head for the door, Rory's phone let out the little 'ding-ding-ding' email notification. Though it was probably some special sale of something she didn't need, she had to check on the off chance that it was Rita telling her she needed to come into the office. 

"When I come back I'm gonna sit you down and force you to watch the movie," Rory said, glancing up at Jess while her Blackberry slowly loaded her inbox.

"I'm not watching that movie."

"You're watching it with me."

"Why do  _I_ have to watch it?" Jess whined, opening the front door like he needed an escape route.

"Because I haven't seen Twilight yet and we both need to establish whether or not we're Team Edward or Team Jacob," Rory rolled her eyes. Jess looked like he might wilt at the very idea of being forced through the supernatural teen-drama. 

"Will you pay for dinner?"

"I'll pay for dinner," Rory nodded, opening the email before bothering to read the subject line.

"I'm picking the place because last time you picked Indian and the smell definitely lingered," Jess said, waiting by the door for Rory. She wasn't exactly paying attention to her face, but whatever she looked like was obviously cause for worry based on the way Jess sounded when he said, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh?" Rory murmured, scanning through the email for a second time. "Yeah, everything is okay. I just... read this." She held her phone out to him and he stepped away from the door, letting it swing shut.

Rory watched Jess read through the email and quickly understood why Jess had been worried. His face morphed from confusion to concern to just plain stunned. 

"I totally forgot that I sent them my resume," Rory said, taking her phone back to re-read the e-mail. "I did it probably a month ago, before I moved online."

Jess nodded and Rory could have sworn she saw the gears turning in his head so fast smoke was coming out of his ears. 

"It's the  _Times_ ," Rory said, reverence dripping from the name. "I got an offer from the New York Times."

"You can't take it, though," Jess said, quickly following up with, "You already work for the Inquirer. You've got your contract."

"Yeah," Rory nodded slowly, sliding the phone into her purse and picking up her bags. She couldn't just leave, she had to finish her commitment to the Inquirer. By the time December rolled around, they'd have no place for her. The cloud she'd been floating on the the last minute or so was starting to sink and let her feet brush the ground. 

Rory Gilmore was going to have to reject a position at the New York Times.

"Yeah, I guess so. I just... I didn't expect to hear back from them after this long."

"Your resume probably got lost in the shuffle," Jess reassured her, waving her toward the door. "I'm sure they would have snatched you up if they knew you were on the table."

"Yeah, maybe," Rory nodded, still in a daze. She headed out to the hallway and waited for Jess to lock the door. 

The walk down the stairs and into the parking garage was wordless and heavy. Not only did Jess's words ground Rory, they had deflated her. She had to give up a dream job because she'd missed the offer by mere weeks. 

Instead of peeling off at the elevator, Jess walked her to her car. He sensed how distracted she was. 

"Are you going to be okay driving?" He asked, helping her load the suitcase into her trunk.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," Rory shrugged, rubbing her face and slapping her cheeks in an attempt to wake up. She should have taken the offer for coffee. "I just didn't expect an email like that at 6:30, y'know?"

"I don't think anyone does," he shrugged, shutting the trunk. "I'll see you Sunday."

"See you Sunday," Rory agreed, walking to the driver's side door. She waved to Jess before climbing in and starting up the engine. In the privacy of her front seat, Rory pulled out her phone and re-read the email again. If this had been sent two and a half weeks ago, she could be working for the Times. Sure, she'd have to suffer a pay cut, but it would be  _the Times_. 

After the third re-read, she plugged her phone in and picked up the Yale water bottle. She'd have to do with cold water until she could find coffee.

She hadn't noticed the sticky-note on the side until it fell off onto her lap. 

In Jess's handwriting, the note read:  _'Good luck with Friday dinner. Photograph any beheadings.'_

-

Rory rolled a bottle of Merlot from hand to hand while she waited for the front door to open again. Every few seconds she would take a break and swat at a particularly stubborn mosquito and curse her hand-eye coordination.

Finally, a gauzy shadow passed over the screen door and the house opened to deposit Lane Kim onto her front porch with two large coffee mugs. The paint made it clear that they were Mother's Day presents.

"An angel," Rory grinned, uncapping the bottle and pouring them both a portion in the dim light from inside. 

"That's exactly what I called Zach when he offered to take over bed time," Lane nodded, pointing to the fold out lawn chair next to the one she'd claimed for herself. They both sat and sipped their drinks. Lane hit the mosquito Rory had been dealing with on her second try.

"How are-"

"Please don't ask me about the boys," Lane interrupted, holding up the hand not wrapped around her mug. "I love them desperately and I would probably kill anyone including you for their sake, but I just... I need a conversation that has nothing to do with preschool and potty training."

"Noted," Rory nodded, fitting her cup into the net holder on her chair's arm. "You would be surprised how much potty training comes up in my day-to-day life, though."

"Even then, it's your day-to-day and not mine. You're in a big city, you're meeting new people- probably very  _cute_  new people. Potty training or not, it's still new and interesting," Lane insisted, leaning toward Rory. "Tell me about Philadelphia. We haven't had a long enough talk in such a long time."

"I told you about how work is going last week and nothing has changed," Rory shrugged, "Really."

"Well, then tell me about something other than work. You keep talking about Louis, what about him?" Lane prompted.

"Louis is a very cute not-an-option," Rory shook her head. "I haven't paid attention to meeting new people, Lane. I'm not someone to live vicariously through."

"You're never not paying attention," Lane insisted. "Maybe you aren't  making use of opportunities, but you aren't not paying attention. You're young, you're hot, and you're published. There hasn't been one real option yet?"

Rory mulled over her answer while she sipped her wine. "There's a cute clerk at a campus bookstore, actually. We flirted while I browsed, but I haven't been back since."

"That's a good prospect, then. You need someone who knows about the books," Lane nodded. "Last time you had a bookish boyfriend he had a knack for musical theater references and Houdini-like magic tricks."

"He's less Houdini and more Devant nowadays."

"You know more than I ever wish to know about magicians," Lane sighed. "How is it, then? Living with Jess? You're all official now, with the lease and everything. It sort of sounds like the hotel visit that never ends."

"If the hotel tried to play couch commando and got up at the ass crack of dawn every morning to make loud breakfast," Rory nodded.

"Loud breakfast?"

"Breakfast, but loudly. Pots and pans, what he thinks is quiet music."

Lane laughed at the tone of Rory's voice. "You talk about him like he's your little brother."

Rory almost choked on her drink. "Oh, god no. I mean, ignoring the fact that the only little brother I actually have isn't aware of sarcasm as a concept, Jess is... god, he's never going to be a  _brother_  to me."

"You don't think you two can ever move past what happened?" Lane sounded as though she was trying to be motherly though, seeing as they'd known each other since the dawn of time, Rory could hear the morbid curiosity. 

"We can definitely move past what happened. It's all ancient history at this point. I just think..." Rory hesitated. She wanted to use the right words. "I think that it will be hard to eve consider him just family, y'know? Once you've planned losing your virginity to someone you can't exactly go back to the before-times."

"The prom that never was," Lane sighed. 

They sat with the chirping of crickets and, if they were as quiet as possible, they could hear the faint murmur of Zach reading a book to the twins. 

"We don't need to be family. We're already good friends; I spend basically every weeknight on opposite ends of the couch with him. I spend the other nights with him and his coworkers and it all works well enough. I just don't think we'll ever really have 'normal'." 

Rory thought back on his reaction to the email from the Times, the way he'd told her that she  _couldn't_  take it. Yes, he had pointed out that the reason was her contract with the Inquirer, but for a moment she heard something else. It was like his heart leapt out of his chest for only a moment. 

She didn't think a friend would respond with that tone of voice.

"The New York Times emailed me."

This time, Lane almost choked. "You're not serious. Did they really? What did they say?"

She was right.

 

 

 

**_Author's Note:_ **

**_I finally have a computer and 2 chapters already planned. If I said those of you reading are bound to be upset with me... well, what would you think of that?_ **

**_I try to respond individually to every comment because I appreciate them SO much. My absolute favorites are from those of you that comment over and over and from those of you that give me your predictions for the future. (some of you are fairly accurate.... but just wait for New Years.)_ **

**_-Asleep_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm surprised and pleased that y'all enjoy my old headcanon :)


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